Category: thoughts




I was having the most wonderful dream too, and then I have to wake up. Wonderful as in exciting, fyi. It involved, Trump, work, an infant, running around this indoor city, escaping down one of those hidden rides inside a hideout only to be caught but still escaping in the last 5 minutes, cars like from Disney’s Cars, a ball throwing contest…man I love dreams like that. And to wake up out of it…why can’t I have dreams like that on the weekends? It was my hope when I woke up that it was a holiday or my week off, but alas…

Cloudless skies! I’m telling you, I think my hunch is correct about there being no food for the birds. We’ve had birds of all sizes come to the deck. Just saw 2 big ravens walking hopefully around. Yesterday I was outside looking at our plants (for some reason this is like PERFECT seed growing weather because they literally pop up overnight) with Liana and this little Chickadee landed right on the railing, chirping loudly at me. I figured it wanted food, so I started distributing from my dwindling birdseed bag, and it didn’t even wait for me to finish before flying right over and grabbing one. I was blown away! Those little birds are seriously sassy and not afraid!

Went to Barnes and Noble on Sunday and maaaan, that book smell that greets you when you first walk in is seriously the best smell. So very soothing and relaxing and inspiring all at the exact same time. I wanted everything, but with my limited moolas, I settled for 2 bargain books. One was a National Geographic how things work book and the other was a journal type of book where they prompt you with 2 sentences of a story and you finish it. OH man. My creative side has been bursting at the seams lately and thriving off the sustenance I’d been denying it. The only problem with reading and being creative again is that I can NOT multitask. At all. I’ve begun to notice that my clumsiness has returned. It had been missing for a long while, and actually my coordination and reaction speeds had been getting better and better the more physical fodder I’ve been giving my body. I just have to be more careful. It’s hard to admit that this lack of creativity stemmed from obtaining a boyfriend. If that wasn’t a red flag already, I don’t know what is. Now, I just sit and marvel at why I waited so long to pick up an actual book that wasn’t manga, or interesting bits of useless information or video game based. That’s the kind of encouragement I want from my significant other, moving forward: one that supports all of my interests. That is a tall order, though, because I have very many and varied interests. Really. It runs the gamut.

Hah…I was just thinking the other day that maybe it is impossible to find someone for me. My thought processes, my interests, my values are so significant and apparently horribly unique, that it’s nigh impossible. I’m sure there are others out there like me, because I have very interesting patients, but the probability two singles would stumble across each other given my lack of social anything is painfully low. The most interesting patients of mine are mostly younger women around my age or guys that are established already. PFFFT. My music just changed to the Wedding March. Funny, life, funny.

My hair is crazy short again. I got a tick embedded in my hip so I started freaking out about them being in my hair. With it this short I can easily monitor now. Plus, I want the shortest hair possible and it was a good excuse, lol. It’s pretty much boy cut. What I really want is a longer buzz cut, but no one wants to do that. Guh.

Recently I started with this horribly addictive app where you get to read and make decisions in these stories. They are M-17 rated, but they are visual novels too. The 17 rating is very soft. Right now I have finished 2 romance genre ones. The first one I read was much better than the second. I don’t usually like romance novels, but maybe I’m in a book kick, so anything is good for me. The first visual novel really pulled me in, though for whatever reason, the female protagonists (yes, these are aimed towards women) are really dumb. They’re well written, though. When I get on these romance kicks, I usually last a few stories before they start getting repetitive and cliché. Then my mind starts analyzing them and why the authors portrayed romance or love a certain way every time. Why every single protagonist seems to be a supermodel and absolutely gorgeous or all know 3 kinds of martial arts but seem to be absolutely worthless when they need to fight. The best part about these types of books, though, is that they usually end up making me want to write my own stories.

Which meeeeeans, that project aowam saw some work last night! I hate writing again after a hiatus because nothing ever sounds like it’s good enough. The words always sound awkward and terrible, but the most important part is getting the ideas down, no matter how rough. Revision is easier.


Slept Well

Whoooooooo! MAN it’s nice to actually sleep well! Magic night guard, I tells ya!

My belly is big again and I just feel plain heavy. That darn doughnut from last week and the bag of gummy bears too!

It’s absolutely gorgeous outside today. Why can’t it be like this on the weekend? Yepp….looks like several weather forecasts agree that the weekend will be rainy. So depressing. Why is life preventing me from selling my house? Makes me wonder.

Just had a thought this morning: if body hair covers parts where the skin is sensitive, thin and prone to friction, with warming, advertising and protective function, then beards were meant for fighting. Have you ever felt a bushy beard before? They’re soft and cushiony. I assume, then, that trying to punch out a guy with a beard is much more difficult than one who doesn’t have one.

In a similar vein, yesterday as I was cleaning up at work, I had the realization that the phrase, “I call shotgun” arose from the age of stagecoaches where the shotgun had to sit next to the driver to gun down bandits. After all these years and I finally get it. D’oh

So yesterday, my co-worker and I were talking about one of her friends who was coming to have his teeth cleaned. She made a face and started telling me his history. I’d seen him a few times in the past and had wrinkled my own nose at the prospect of seeing him again. She said that he was in 5 year relationship with a very controlling girl, then he was single for 6 years and just broke up with his 1 year girlfriend. She was ragging on how and why he couldn’t keep a girlfriend and that perhaps he’s gay? She said that her own friends who meet the guy at a party or event, don’t like him either. He’s a bit of a douche, she said, as the consensus. He did brush me off merely because I have dogs and not puppies when I first met him and he had a puppy and was super “know-it-all.” Said basically that my information about dogs didn’t matter because of that fact. Puppies…dogs…they’re the same….so…I don’t see the difference. Whatever. Being the professional I am,  just changed the subject, but the offense and his lack of reasonability was already clear and my judgement was already made.

Anyways, the point of all this is that it’s amazing how people, society place so much significance on being in a relationship, and all the subsequent baggage and expectation that comes with that. I can’t really fault anyone for having that sentiment, though, because it is prevalent in society, and humanity as a whole. Every single culture expects their children, their people to be in relationships, actively seeking out men or women in order to procreate. It’s human, it’s nature, it’s primal. Then you have me, who sees it all as only an option in life, not a necessity. I go as far as to put myself and those who share this idea on a pedestal, because we are “transcending humanity and nature” by not wishing to procreate or involve in such shenanigans. There are subsequent consequences to this decision, but it’s the sentiment nonetheless. At the same time, I’m not wholly opposed to the idea, as I’m not immune, being female, to the primal/natural allure of babies. Mating and finding that mate is also there too. I continue to struggle with these 2 opposing forces, of yes or no, of why not, and why so?

Looking down on people because they’ve only had 2 girlfriends and “can’t keep them” is…I dunno, to me unfair. I value choice and thought. I agree he’s not the nicest person and the possibility of him being gay is there, which may explain why he’s not a happy person. Heaven knows that they feel the same way about me. I’m a year out and not interested in another relationship currently if ever. My family asks, friends wonder, patients ask too. Why the worry? Why the care? Beh.

Running out of time, but homosexuality, while becoming more accepted, is still a debate topic. Think about your views on it. Many are accepting, now, but isn’t there still a bit of, uhhhhh, going on inside you? An unease, a misgiving? Think about it, though, and don’t lie to yourself. Now, think about why you feel that way. I feel like the weirdness feeling really comes about from the same place as that drive to find mates and procreate and then think poorly about those who won’t/can’t find a bf, or gf as well as looking way down on virginity. If you notice, men seem to be either accepting, or more prevalently, completely weirded out, almost grossed out about gayness.

It all boils down to that natural drive to produce babies. It’s bred in you, made in you, and anything outside that seems to defy nature and induce, well, fear. It’s strange, different, and doesn’t make natural sense.

Great, now I’m super late.

Ship. Shipping.

Apparently, these days, ship and shipping means more than a floating water vehicle or sending of an order (origins of which still come from the aquatic vehicle). It apparently came about when teenagers of the modern day don’t feel like typing out the entire word, “relationship.” It is a noun but also used as a verb in which case, it means the person supports a relationship between or among particular characters. For example, “I ship Lloyd x Colette.”

I was wholly confused by this. I am a member of a Facebook Tales Series group and now I suddenly realize the age dichotomy present there. Old fart. Ancient. Dinosaur.

Why is it that I now think fads or things like this are so dumb when in the past I possibly would have been OK or just accepted it even if I wouldn’t use it myself?

I guess I should have realized it sooner given some of the posts lately. The juvenile comments and posts, younger generation self-consciousness and its partner self-importance. Someone posted the other day “Tales of Symphonia was bad, change my mind.” After a phenomenal eye roll, I set about writing my response saying that while ToS was what launched my love for the Tales series, you shouldn’t have to validate your opinions because it’s, well, your own opinion. I also encouraged them to embrace their dislike. A few people agreed with me, but it’s just another struggle the newer generation is dealing with given social media and flames and such. Why can’t people have opinions and agree to disagree instead of flame wars? The art of debate is completely nonexistent. I don’t like cornbread, you love it. That’s cool, I can still get along with you, just don’t try to make me like it because I don’t. Too much focus on differences and not enough on similarities.

The other one the other day that was rather ridiculous was this one person who ranted about how Bandai Namco refused to entertain their idea on a new Tales game they wrote a fanfiction about (Tales of Kemet. Look up Kemetics) and how it’s their dream to be the main character or a Tales game and they spent SO MUCH TIME writing this game. They wanted everyone’s support and then they posted a dumb survey of opinions. 99% of respondents said NO. The comments were rather kind, honestly, and I decided to venture into the person’s profile and it was your classic kid with wannabe anime-style drawing. I was like, oh man. This isn’t a newer generation issue as just an inflated youth ego issue.

Now I feel creepy being in this group with children.

Trying To Sleep

I was trying to go to sleep last night and one thing kept popping up in my brain the whole time: What’s the  point of it all? Have you ever asked yourself this? I’ve ruminated on this question since before high school. The question hits me randomly a couple times a year, and I guess it’s about that time again for the first time in 2018. So, having thought about it for more than half of my life, am I any closer to the answer? No. My “answer” is still the same: that there really isn’t an answer yet, not until it’s over. Life, I mean. Then all will become clear…whether it be a yes or a no. I just go through the same thought path of floating out of myself and seeing it all from a 3rd person perspective, thinking about the past, the present and the future. Then it all zooms out to the country, the planet and the universe and how miniscule and seemingly meaningless it all is. Do you care what a specific electron is doing right now? Or what the lone ant inside the colony is up to or thinking? Has it any impact on you? Possibly down the road, but not tangibly in this instant, no. If it is all meaningless, why am I working, making money, worrying about relationships, thinking about reproduction, retirement, family? What’s the point of it all? Might as well just give up and lay on the couch all day or just squander all of my money, quit my job and go have fun. Or just give it all into the internet and dissolve that brain.

Then it all zooms back into my life, and my perspective, and the reality is, it doesn’t matter what the point of it all is because I’m still alive, I’m still affecting others, I still have responsibilities and duties in this society, this reality, I’ve been brought into and have created for myself. Like the ant in the colony, I have a role to fill that I just can’t shrug off and go somewhere because these things do matter to me, the human, the speck, the little pawn in this impossibly complex game. Or maybe it’s massively simple. It doesn’t matter what I think or feel about it, life and duty still soldier on and so should I. The only thing that may set me apart from the masses is that I even think about it like this. Haha. Maybe the antibodies of the system might come and mark me if I’m not careful.

Blue pill or red pill?

I’ll just continue to strive for what makes me happy and avoid those that don’t.

Interestingly I just happened across a meme this morning of a picture of Heath Ledger and a quote of his (supposedly) saying something along the lines of, people ask what your career is, if you have a house as if it is written somewhere that…..screw it I’ll just find a similar meme.


There. It resonates with me because I completely agree and have mentioned something similar in my past entries. Somehow it is invisibly written somewhere that success in life is solely in a person getting married to an amazing person, having kids, a career, a nice house, 2 cars, and retiring to a nice place. If you fail in any of these points, you fail in life and have been very unsuccessful. In fact, why is it that those who have never been married or are single deemed to be failures and looked down upon? Where did these societal rules get set up and by whom? That women should have long hair. That men need to be manly and macho. There are other questions I have about “norms” like why is it that experiencing sex is so undeniably important that it is massively ridiculed to have remained virgin or celibate? Why is it so important to look a certain way or to remain one of the “cool peeps?” If you look at a spattering of the population so many people would fall into the “eh” or “ok” or “ugly” category. Beauty standards!!! That’s why beautiful people stand out, because they’re pretty and they’re relatively rare in the population.

I have others, but I’m out of time, and I also have some tentative answers, though not that it should justify actions or “normalcy.” Ah, a thoughtful start to my Friday.


Niiiight time

I keep thinking tomorrow is Friday because it is my Friday this week! Whoo!! Hopefully it goes without a hitch.

Remember when I said I would change all of my profile pics on the Catholic Match site to the real, short-haired version of myself and see if that stops all of the views and messages? WELL IT WORKED. HAHAHAHAHA. Kind of sad, really. Sometimes I look at my patients and think to myself (as well as those on that 600lb life show) if this person can find a soulmate, why in the world can I not? And is online dating the best way to find them? No, not really. Oh well. I’ve already resigned myself to growing old all by myself. I don’t know why people are always so attached to hair and how it really changes the way people treat you. Just like skin color. Or accent. A very common fear about cancer for women, is that they’ll lose their hair. I struggle to wonder why people, men and women, are so afraid of it. Heck, I’ve been trying to shave my head forever, but no one will let me. For some reason across history, it’s shameful to lose your hair. Like it’s a commodity. I guess my hair is so thick and full and grows quickly so I really don’t care. It’s just so hot and it gets into my eyes and face. Currently it’s long enough to stab me in my eyes. I’m trying to keep it longer to make it to my nephew’s baptism. I dunno if I’m going to make it. Sometimes I sit there and wonder if I can grow it out to a girly length to make it through a potential wedding, and then I decide to try and 2 weeks in I’m like, TAKE IT OFF NOW.

With social media posts a normal part of life and the subsequent desensitization to basically everything that used to be considered rude, it bothers me how casual people have gotten, especially the kids. What’s more annoying to me is how mundane cuss words are and how they show up so readily everywhere on posts, out of people’s mouths, in kids, etc. Cuss words have always annoyed me in general, but I understand the use of emphasis in particular instances. Sometimes there’s just no better way to express or deaden some pain. However, the banality born from continual overuse, cheapens and dampens the effect and therefore it’s just a word now that we know isn’t supposed to be used and yet is used commonly. These days it’s more for comedic emphasis than anything else. Just like how the hollow words “I love you” uttered routinely  by one person generally doesn’t have the same effect as if it came from someone who hardly ever uses it. Not to say that love shouldn’t be expressed, it just means more when used sparingly. Works on gestures too, like hugs or kisses. Pretty much every post these days will use f*ck or f*** or sh*t. Noooo no one knows what those words are and by putting asterisks on them it makes it OK somehow to use 8 of them in the same f***ing sentence in f***ing front of every f***ing word.

In a related sense, and yet not, I was reading one of those Reddit article things on effectively dumb things doctors have seen or heard from a patient. Some of the accounts were legitimately jaw-dropping given the lack of sense from these patients,  but others really gave insight to the mentality and jadedness of some of these practitioners. One guy was treating a patient who had made a poor decision in regard to caring for a wound, and said he really wanted to laugh hard at this guy who is in serious pain because he was so stupid. At what point do you lose the concept of humanity in dealing with people? I understand that some people are real pieces of work. I work in healthcare. I get it. Our patients say and do dumb things at times but they still are people. I am in awe at times, but once again, they are people and to them that  made sense. Now that they are in pain, will I continue to let them suffer? Will I sit there and ridicule them for their lack of knowledge? NO. My job and duty is to make them better, attempt to educate them and treat them as a person…maybe a bitter, festering sack of negativity and evil, but I won’t ridicule their pain. Laugh in their face.

Just like that one patient of mine who used to work in the ER. I was telling him about my dogs and how Gable had almost died in that surgery because he was bleeding out and had that indiscriminate mass in his foot and then needed a transfusion. He effectively told me that I wasted my money, why not just amputate the leg. When I explained, incredulous, that not only does he need that leg, my house is pretty much all stairs. Then he just shrugged and said, then put him down and get another dog. Just like that. This, folks, is why I try not to get to know other people too well. I tend to greatly dislike people the more I get to know them. He’s a physician. Isn’t it his job to protect life and work to save it? Nevermind that he’s a dog. He means a LOT to me, as if he were my son. If my son, or even if it was me, I’d want to try everything in my power to save that leg. Not just amputate it, not just give up and produce a new son. I kind of get where he’s coming from if he doesn’t understand or value animals as much as I do, but in the end, that’s a life. A life, and every life on this earth wants one thing: to live and survive. I think it deserves a chance. There’s a point at which you need to balance that with reality and the long run, but if there’s a good chance and a good prognosis, I’ll take it to preserve life. I’ll never see eye to eye with those who can’t see that.

I also understand coming from healthcare setting that being jaded is a true issue given what you see, but as I asked before, at what point does that overcome our grasp on humanity and life? Is every patient that comes to you just a peasant, a peon, who can’t possibly know nearly as much as you? Do you have to look down on people because you have a title, a status? Or are people just a body, textbook science, unfeeling, an experiment, and experience for you? They have brothers, sisters, pets, kids, grandparents, friends, co-workers. Someone loves them. They love someone.

I dunno, man. It’s particularly awful in men, I’ve noticed, though they’d accuse women of being “too emotional.” The military ones are the worst. Many men have this obnoxious sense of group mentality and having to be too-cool-for-school. It’s probably their way of coping with stress and horrors, without showing too much emotion and paving the way to perceived “weakness”. Everything is a joke, everyone is an idiot, make fun of those people. Ridicule your buddies. Be “one of the guys.” Distance yourself, nah it doesn’t effect me at all, and if it does, respond in anger, crudeness. It certainly works, but it sets up an environment of bullying, effectively. Let’s emotionally and psychologically flay this guy, I’m sure he’ll learn from that how to fit in with us. Common, as I was told, in firefighter groups and I assume in military situations. When it was explained to me, I completely balked as it was clearly emotional abuse. Debase these poor young men and boys until they’re desperate for affirmation of any sort. Like brainwashing. Except it doesn’t instill confidence, just bravado if the male makes it higher up in the hierarchy to hide the lack of self-confidence and then watch it happen all over again as they perpetuate the cycle. Predispose them to enjoy bullying the younger ones. Can’t wait for my turn to be at the top. Just like my dad.

Buh. How’d I get on this topic.

These night time surveillance recordings of mine are creepy to watch! Also very fascinating what we do in our sleep…or more accurately what I do in my sleep. No sleep walking as of yet!

The Unfinished Symphony. What a neato piece.

If I was a Man

Aside from my brother constantly telling me I’m half man, that I really do feel like I had a male twin that died in utero and therefore I absorbed some of his testosterone, that I’m really not particularly feminine in many ways, I really am female. I don’t know if it’s just the way my brain operates where I feel like everything is so amazingly interesting when others don’t want to think a certain way or feel like those certain types of thoughts are “weird” or “strange” or “why-do-you-think-like-that,” but I think about stuff like, would it be like if I were male instead of female? Not in the sense that I wish I was or not, just a what-if. Similarly my brain will think of things like, of all the people and life forms that exist on this planet, I am me. Why? I could have been a bee, or my neighbor, or that idiot I just honked at, but I’m me! That’s just cool! Or, what’s the point of life? Why do we run this rat race? What’s it all for? What does it matter if I have a lot of money or become rich and famous, or even if I decide I want to be a druggie? Why do we even exist? Or about paranormal phenomena, or about how the body works, etc. Just, purely for understanding’s sake.

Others find it all too deep, too thinky, too…strange. Bothersome. I haven’t found a single person with whom I can talk about things like this to and have them one, not run away screaming, two, actually listen to me without zoning out, and three (the most important) actually understand what I’m saying and think one the same plane. My mom is probably the closest, but she doesn’t think on the level I do. It’s something I’ve come to accept: that I don’t think like others do or vice versa. Nothing that I look down on people or in any direction at all, just that’s how it is.

Haha…honestly it’s all rather cumbersome, this style of thought. It drives more people away than to me. Too many times have others been offended by what I say even though I don’t mean anything judgmental. I like to think that my thoughts are realistic. Then again…words don’t mean the same thing to me as other people either. Take the word “realistic” for example: what does that mean to you? What does the word “real” mean? Typically, my understanding of a word — or my thinking, really — is what I describe as round. Not linear, round. Encompassing. Whole. A globe. My thought process is indeed, round, if you were to give it a shape. Realistic can mean, pragmatic, down to earth, right? But it also means true. In my sense, I feel that my thoughts are realistic because they are true, they are exactly what I feel.

When I was in college, I had a friend who was struggling in a class. I asked her if she needed help, because I could help her. She was offended because for some reason she didn’t want MY help, seeing as maybe her intelligence should be equal to or greater than my own? I may not have gotten the chance to go to schools on par with my true academic abilities, and I may not flaunt it either, but I am a good student. I’ve always been a good student. That’s why I have always been at the very top of my classes. LET ME HELP YOU. If anyone tells you that, your first reaction is what? To be offended. Why are you boasting and rubbing that in my face, do you think I’m dumb or not smart?  I have never understood that mindset. If I don’t know something, I have ZERO issues admitting that I don’t know, because, well, I don’t know! Teach me! Why must people pretend to know things they don’t? Pride? To what end? And similarly, if I know something, then I know it. I’m NOT BOASTING. I’m merely telling you a truth. I know my strengths. I know my weaknesses. Let me help! Needless to say, she didn’t let me help. Oh well. I tried.

It’s interesting whenever I admit my academic achievements. Not to anyone either, just to myself. It’s always been something I keep within me because I know how it makes others feel. I’m no genius. I had a personal encounter with a genius and there are EXTREMELY intelligent people out there. I consider myself above average intelligence, with a unique brain. Really and truly, if I were to pat myself on the back, I really have always been top of my class. I kept all of my report cards. In my senior year in HS, when I found out that I was tippity top percentage of my class (my orchestra 1st period teacher was super proud, my friend was mad jealous, and I was very embarrassed) I purposefully slacked off so that I wouldn’t be either valedictorian or salutatorian. It worked. They asked me repeatedly in middle school to attend governor’s school for the gifted mind. I repeatedly declined, much the fury of my father. I was one of 2 students in college that made it as a junior into Phi Beta Kappa. Never graduated from there. I never had a choice as to what college to go to, so I don’t and won’t ever know the full extent of my abilities. Same in my career. Life hurdles made it impossible to realize my full potential. BUT HERE’S THE THING: it goes back to when I said towards the beginning that my mind likes to think about deep questions: what’s the point? Whether I land a successful, high end, high paying, high tier, high respect job, what’s the trade off? I’ve had barriers to my potential my whole life. Like I was never destined for it. Now that those shackles are gone and I’m in an extremely favorable place and position to achieve any dreams like that I desire, I find that I…don’t really care to. Why? Why should I?

I wonder, sometimes, what it would have been like to have made that decision to go to governor’s school. To choose the best college. To shoot and aim high, to hit my target. Those people have lives, responsibilities, bills, woes, happiness, just like anyone else. And they’ll die just like everyone else too. The same percentage and capacity of debt, just in a different life tier. More cushy, a loftier view. Farther to fall. More blindness. And much more effort to keep your balance the higher you go. Mortality remains the same.

Wow. I am super duper sleepy.

Heh. Will I ever find someone who can think the round way I do? I can’t even describe that roundness properly. Eh, that doesn’t matter either, does it? Nothing does. I’m just too weird, too cuckoo anyways. Does any of this post even make sense of follow a logical path? Beh.

Oh, and as Valentine’s Day approaches this single lady, the answer to my question a few years ago: my significant other can NOT be a non-thinker. I need someone with a decent head between their shoulders. Basically, it’ll be impossible to find anyone who can tolerate this insanity I call my mind. What a joke it all is.

Good night.

OH yeah. The whole reason I wanted to write a post was to show this image: I found a quiz online that would take pictures of you and show you what you’d look like as the opposite sex. It was pretty neato and fun. Even if some of them didn’t even change the original picture for the result. Sometimes I make a nice looking guy, lol. Also, I was trying to figure out how it worked. Either they just pull from a big library of pictures and meld them together, or they just masculinize it by thickening and straightening eyebrows, pull down and square the jaw, make the nose bigger, add a little facial hair, bigger forehead. They look all so different though, that’s why I thought they just pulled on a library of male faces.


Friday now

This week has progressed rather swiftly. Not complaining about that. I was supposed to work out last night, but didn’t because I’m lazy. MUST. DO. TONIGHT. I really really really must keep up with things! This weekend…not much planned. Cat feeding for a friend. And hopefully getting on the RW bandwagon here. I don’t feel funny at all of late. No inspiration at all, even given that I’ve been playing different games. Doesn’t matter if I feel funny at all, I just need to do something. Overall my laziness knows no bounds and I can’t keep doing that! Actually, yes I can. I can do whatever I want.

My mom is sick again, and unfortunately for me, I think I’m catching whatever she has, which means I’m sick again too. Why. I was JUST sick. More reason to get back on the workout train. I actually was able to sleep last night overall which is better than it has been the last few days. Does anyone else wake up to a tune? It’s like my dreams get background music. My crazy theories abound again with the sleeping bit. Getting negative waves from the paternal front and it’s affecting my sleep tremendously. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it’s petering out and that the beginning of the week was spent with bad dreams and fitful sleep.

In the same vein, my coworker is no longer weirded out by it, nor are my other coworkers but others still give me that “you’re crazy” look when I mention things like, “I can feel when there’s major anxiety in the office.” I can though, and honestly I’m more weirded out that others can’t detect it because to me it feels normal to be able to do that. It sits in my stomach area and the lower chest. That’s how I can tell a truly anxious patient from a fake/self-induced anxiety patient. I don’t even have to be face to face with a person to feel it. There are several instances where I’ll call it before I bring a patient back because I can tell there’s someone freaking out in the waiting room. Yesterday was the latest occurrence where I brought back a particular patient once I moved my previous patient over to wait for a filling. I was about 10 minutes behind, but that’s not overly unusual in the office. However, during the course of the cleaning I became increasingly rushed, like, OMG I need to get this done FAST AND NOW. He himself is a naturally nervous patient (this week and last week have been full of these anxiety ridden folk…they always all seem to come at the same intervals) so I was trying to manage that and him by staying and exuding as much calm as possible, but I just could not shake the increasing demand to rush. I seriously thought that my appointment was taking so long that I was 15 minutes behind!! Rush job, didn’t even take xrays, got up to get an exam, made my new tray, almost brought it into room before remembering I’m still waiting on an exam, so I had to take it back, and then…I finally looked at my watch. I wasn’t late at all. I was 20 minutes early despite taking my patient back late!! It was then I found out what was going on and it all made sense: one of the doctors was very VERY behind because something went wrong with his appointment. Almost an hour behind. My prior patient had to leave and rescheduled her appointment, unable to wait for the filling, and the other doctor had to step in and help with exams. Makes SO much sense now. The rush-anxiety I was sensing was a mixture of my prior patient and my late-doc, but mostly my late doctor. He’s almost never behind schedule.

It’s useful to feel anxieties like that because I sense it before something bad happens, but it’s also very draining and I always feel like I’ve been sucked dry of energy by the time the anxiety-filled days are done. Just like yesterday. I got home and just didn’t have the spirit energy to get up and work out even though physically, my body was like, let’s GET IT ON!! C’MON!!!

I’ve yet to put a name on these sensory abilities. They’ve been extremely useful to me throughout my life because it allows me to read people and situations. I’ve had people ask me if I’m psychic. I can’t tell the future per se…I just get feelings, gut reactions that hint at what it could be. I can usually tell, if I’m at the height of sensing that day, if there’s a police car nearby looking for speeders…and I’m usually right. Some days are better than others, though. If my mind is clouded, then it’s hard. The best example of cloudiness was when I was in a serious relationship. I couldn’t read anything or anyone most of the time because my mind and soul were focused 95% on another person. When I’m sick, it’s messed up too.

Put the aura sensing, body language reading, and tonal analysis together and you have, Ta-DAAAA! I just judged you. My success rate is rather high too. In fact, if I can get you in my dental chair, I can usually tell quite a bit about you in a short amount of time. The harder person you are to crack, the more time and more visits I need. I’ve used and offered the service to coworkers and their significant others. One coworker refuses to let me delve in because it can be scary to know the real person underneath a mask. I use the same techniques when dealing with dogs. You read their energy/auras and body language. The very important flipside to detection, is how I react to it. Using the information to my advantage, and therefore, controlling my own aura. If I have an anxiety ridden person, I’m not going to counter it with anxiety, I  need to counter it with calm. If I can exude enough of it, the person will be lulled and anxiety decreased.

I’ve tried that technique in the car too, it does work sometimes if they’re being receptive. That’s another thing: if the other person is not receptive voluntarily or involuntarily, then it doesn’t work to control the situation.

I’m crazy, yes.