Dreaming Big…

I have been having insane dreams lately…

Last night I dreamed the earth was invaded by aliens, in ships that looked like a combination of Stargate and Star Wars vessels… and there had apparently been some form of the Rapture that I had missed! I was yelling “Its Fringe! Fringe was right all along!” and we were all armed. My mom was in a hospital, on the 10th floor, and my dad went up to see her but the aliens – assisted by giant spiders – blew up the lifts so we couldn’t get to my mom and she couldn’t walk down the stairs ‘coz of whatever surgery she’d had… But we could talk to her and my dad through the window, from the ground, and they were only one floor above us! I was very upset at missing the rapture, but I was also upset because I couldn’t get to my dogs!

Another night I dreamed my folks were living in a big house inside a complex, and they had some kind of mining operation on the go under the house. A friend of ours – Jessica – was there too, and she reckoned she was an expert and put a bomb in a hole in a wall in the house – not under the house – and proceeded to blow a bigger hole in the wall, and blow all the windows out of the surrounding houses, both of us laughing our heads off!
At the same time, I’m being called by my folks to see to my dogs ‘coz a woman dressed like Father Christmas was trying to get in the gate and they were trying to get out.

Those aren’t even the kakkest dreams I’ve had, and I have no idea why! And my dogs are almost always in the dreams!

I’m sleeping well. I’m not drinking coffee late at night, o eating cheese…

Ah Facebook, How I Loathe You…

The more I use it, the more I dislike it.

For a while I thought it was social media in general that I can’t stand anymore, but I actually still enjoy Twitter and Instagram. WhatsApp has become a communication tool rather than a form of social media. And even though I blog far less than I used to, I still enjoy that too.

I also work in social media – Facebook included – and this I enjoy too. Probably because it’s not personal…


My growing distaste of Facebook has nothing to do with the fact that my feed defaults to “Top Stories” no matter how many times I change it to “Most Recent” (get over it people, it’s not going to change no matter how many times you share a protest-slash-petition).
I try to keep the number of Facebook friends I have under 200, and I limit my acceptance of friend requests to people I actually speak to on a fairly regular basis.
My irritation also has nothing to do with the games people play. I just reject the request and block the game. Problem solved.
Even the click bait, bad grammar, and “vaguebooking” isn’t what has put me off.

What I have come to hate is that as much as people share on Facebook, they don’t talk to each other.

Excited About Recycling!

Thats me!

Its actually a little ridiculous, just how excited I am about this!
I know I’m a project person though, so whilst I will continue doing it I won’t be excited about it for too long…

For now, I’m enjoying it.

For a long time now, I’ve been taking my empty egg boxes and the cardboard tubes from my paper towels to a nursery school up the road from me. And I keep tins and glass jars for my MIL who does crafty things with the tins and fills the jars with jams, pickles and preserves.

I felt better for not throwing them away, but that was as much recycling as I did. I had Pinterest dreams of having the colour coded bins, and a compost heap (which is a little odd since I don’t do any gardening), and a chute from inside my kitchen straight into a recycling bin, but I never got around to actually doing any of it.

And then our suburb’s resident’s association got a whole bunch of us to commit to the Pikitup “separation at source” recycling programme, and they came around and dropped off two kinds of bags – one for paper and the other for tins, glass, and plastic.
The bags are put out the day before our usual Pikitup collection and they leave new bags for the next week’s collection.

With just me and my Glugster in the house, and giving to the nursery school and to my MIL, our recycling bags are never really full, but I’m happier for not throwing it in the bin!

Do you recycle?

Odontophobia, The Fear of Dentistry

I am a sufferer.

Its ridiculous because I can’t actually pinpoint a particular dentist appointment in my life where I was hurt by the dentist. I was about 10 when I got my first filling, and I remember the assistant wiping my tears out of my ears but I don’t remember actual pain… and as I’ve gotten older its gotten worse.

This afternoon my knucklehead had an appointment ‘coz his wisdom teeth are really bugging him, and as I have a few small problems with my teeth – nothing painful yet – I decided to book an appointment too.
I called the dentist last week to arrange a Dormicum scrip because just phoning to make myself an appointment gives me butterflies, and they called me back saying the Dentist wanted to see me first to see what needed to be done before he’d write a scrip. It took several phone calls to explain that I couldn’t even sit in the chair without the meds, no matter what needed doing, so he wrote me a scrip.
The chemist didn’t have the 15mg tablet I was prescribed and gave me two 7,5mg tablets instead, which I didn’t think would be a problem and I took them 50 minutes before my appointment.
But once my knucklehead was finished – having a wisdom tooth pulled IN THE CHAIR no less – the dentist told me to take a seat, and I was still wide awake… and I burst into tears.

My poor knucklehead has never seen that because I tried not to be in the chair if he had an appointment – and he has no problem with the dentist! When he was younger I would still be checking our details in reception and he would have slipped off down the passage and be sitting in the chair chatting to the dentist when I got there.
And I only found out about Dormicum when he was already 17 years old! I couldn’t believe no dentist had ever mentioned it before.
Needless to say there’s no twice-a-year check up for me.

My boy was so sweet. He put his arm around me and encouraged me to get in the chair so the dentist could just have a look, and he came and sat next to me and held my hand, trying to reassure me as I literally bawled and tried to push my body backwards through the chair.

The dentist was really nice too, trying to reassure me that he wasn’t going to hurt me, but even as he just had a look with the little round mirror and took X-rays I cried, gripping the arm of the chair and my son’s hand till my arms were white to the elbow.
He tried to ask if it was the needle I was afraid of and I spluttered that it was all of it. Then he said there was one small cavity he could fix without giving me a shot as it was only on the surface, and asked if he could try. I could barely acknowledge anything and as he started the drill he barely touched it to my tooth before I was sobbing and he just couldn’t work like that.
Then my darling Glugster arrived and immediately saw that the meds hadn’t worked like they should, and he held the hand my son wasn’t holding.
We tried to wait a bit to see if the meds would kick in but nothing changed and after a few minutes I left, I’ll make a new appointment when the tooth starts hurting me. 😛

Normally, when the Dormicum works like it should, I fall asleep in reception 20 minutes before my appointment and have to be guided into the chair. Apparently I talk a lot of nonsense and the dentist has to repeatedly tell me to open my mouth, but I’m not there and I remember nothing afterwards. Obviously I have to be driven to the dentist and then home again, and I sleep for several hours afterwards, but it doesn’t take me days to recover from the physical tension I experience without the meds!

I apologised to the dentist, who I am sure has seen this kind of behaviour before, and my Glugster drove us home. As Murphy would have it I fell asleep 5 minutes before we got home and slept for a couple of hours, but I remember the appointment in its entirety.
The dentist suggested we hire a type of anesthetist next time rather than using Dormicum, but that will be pricey as we have to pay the specialist up front and claim it back from the medical aid, so I think I’ll probably go with the Dormicum again when I have to go back – I’ll just make sure I get the 15mg tablet.
Thankfully I’m not stiff and achey this time since the poor dentist didn’t actually do anything.

How are you with dentist visits? Do you need to be medicated first?

Just Skip It!

Yesterday I went to an event on Cardiac health, and when we left we were each given a thank you gift, in this case it was a “Fit Body Box”.


Inside the box there’s a skipping rope, a pedometer, a scale and a tape measure that can also calculate your BMI.


This morning I skipped. With the skipping rope. For the first time since I was in primary school.

I didn’t even manage 2 minutes before I had to stop – with the step-step style skipping not the two-feet-hopping type of skip – but considering my BMI is 37 and there are few things more uncomfortable than running or skipping with my boobs, I think its not a bad start.

Baby steps.

Or should I say, baby skips…?