Dust Dust Dust

Dust.
It got into my eyes.
And apparently didn't leave.

How'd I get dust in my eyes?
I was trying to catch an Anole (reptile) that escaped from it's cage and had climbed on top of the enclosure holding all the reptiles.
And boy is that top covered in dust!!

But it irritated my eyes for sure.

And gave me a headache. >.<

No More Dresses

I broke the surface, gasping for air, my arms flailing about desperate to grab onto anything that could pull me out of the freezing water.
That was it. No matter how pretty the dress was, or how it 'accentuated my shoulders' with the other nonsensical compliments Jeremy had piled on top of me. I would Never. Ever. EVER wear another dress! EVER! They were fabric death traps that's what they were.

-Inspiration.....from drifting random day dream thoughts.

Another One?

It's odd to have so many headaches in a row....I mean I get them often...but this is a bit too often
....I got another one today.

I can only guess that it was from my muscles being tense/strained/sore whatever.

As I was feeling alright until I got off work,
but on the drive home an ache began to form behind my eyes.

I tried taking a nap to get rid of the headache.
But it didn't work.

Thankfully, some Excedrin and a heat pack managed to relax my muscles enough to ensure that the headache didn't get as bad as the weekend one was.
It faded rather quickly.

So I guess it was just from muscle strain this time.....

No Time To Waste

The old man tensed as a weight pressed firmly against his head.
"You asked for my help?" His rival asked softly from behind.
The old man kept his head forward, though his hands clenched. "Yes." He grated out. "No tricks."
The weight against his head disappeared. "It must be important, if you're coming to me."
The corner of the old man's eyes twitched. It was important and his rival was the only one who could accomplish the impossible within the time frame needed. "I don't have time for amateurs. And like you've proven countless times before. You are the best."
A chuckle. "That must have been hard to say, old man."
"Don't push it."
"Wasn't gonna." A weight again pressed against him, this time on his shoulder. "Take this."
The old man's hand reached up, feeling a cold hard case.
"I'll be in touch."
The old man turned, nearly dropping the phone that had been given to him, but there was no sign that anyone had stood behind him in the first place. "You better be." He muttered, clenching the phone.

-Inspiration from watching an episode of Detective Conan focused on Kaito Kid

The Old Couple

It was the old couple.
I don't know why it was the old couple.
But for some reason it was them that caused my headache today.

They were looking at the cats wanting to get a new one.
So I was like "Okay, which one do you want to look at?"
"We want to look at the cats."
"Which ones?"
"These ones?"
"I can only bring out one cat at a time, which one did you want to look at first?"
"We want to look at a cat."
"But which one?"
"I don't know. Which one should we look at?"

Seriously.
That was the conversation!

All I needed to know was which of the 10 cats we had, did they want to look at first.
I was alright with them looking at more than one. They just needed to pick one.

But they were so wishy washy with decisions trying to convince each other that they should be the one to choose.

That it just got on my nerves.

It got further on my nerves when they were having trouble figuring out how to open the cages, and the guy kept getting his fingers stuck in the door of the kennel they'd bought.

Plus the fact that I had to repeat instructions multiple times in order for them to understand, and then they still didn't truly understand.

Yah.
It was just a stressful situation where their energy and interactions with me just was...bad.

And I've had a headache since that point that will. not. go. away. >.<

No Feast For Thee

My stomach had kept up a continuous growl for the last ten minutes it felt like. And for good reason too. I'd been stuck in the kitchen for the last four hours slaving away at the fire that was used to cook most of the meat for tonight's celebratory feast.
Would I see a scrap of food?
No.
Slaves didn't get feast food. They got whatever rotten garbage happened to fall into the trash heap. You can't imagine how sick I was of soggy green beans. If I never had to eat another one in my life it would be too soon.
Too soon, but it would more than likely be what I would find on the trash heap tonight once I was allowed to rest.
I jerked back, coughing as one of the logs in the fire snapped, sending a cloud of soot my way.
"Oi! Boy! Don't get soot in those cakes or I'll skin you alive!" The cook snapped at me.
"Aye, aye." I managed, ducking back closer to the flames to ensure the 'precious' cakes weren't 'damaged' by soot. They'd only been in the fire for a few minutes, now that the meat had been sent out for the main course of the feast.
It wasn't like the Old Geezer had enough taste left on his tongue to know when soot touched his mouth. The spices on the meat had been intensified over the last six months for that very reason.
 I rolled my eyes, ducking away from the heat. "They're fine, Cook." I called, and for my efforts earned a smack on the head with her favorite wooden spoon.
"Get out of my way." She snapped, pulling the cakes closer to her and inspecting them herself.
I scooted backwards, glad to get away from the heat for a few minutes, eying the cooks wide backside as I did so. One good shove with my foot and she'd be eating cake instead of serving it.
My hands clenched. No, I didn't need a night in the Well right now.
She turned to me with a glower. "Be more careful." She snapped, returning to the rest of the kitchen tasks.
"Aye" I said, kneeling back down at the fire to fan the flames. I'd been careful in the first place, it wasn't like I'd purposely chose for the log to snap right then.

-Inspiration from cooking dinner tonight. (Note: No, I didn't feel like a slave, the food was delicious, and the roommates very appreciative.)

What To Say

I'm honestly not sure why I got a headache.

My guess it was stress dealing with talking with a coworker. As the conversation dealt with issues that I was aware of the answer to, but wasn't sure if I should tell my coworker, so it was a difficult conversation to go through as I didn't know for sure what to say.
After a long work day and dealing with customers too...my guess is that's the reason.....

But it could have been something else entirely too....

An Unwanted Task

The oval face shown silently back at me, the permanent grin appearing to mock me.
I exhaled, turning the mask over, placing it over my own face.
Eventually....Eventually I would no longer need to wear this.
I looked forward to that day of freedom.
I straightened, silent on the roof's edge.
That day of freedom wasn't today though.

I had a job to do.

-Inspiration from watching Detective Conan -Night Baron episode.

Long Shift

It was the longer shift.
The stress of having to play monkey in the middle.

*exhales*

I don't like having to go back and forth between people.
It would be much easier just to have the two forces talk to each other.

To top it off, I'd been asked to stay an hour longer than normal.
So I was already tired, and hungry, and wanting to go home.
So the added stress of hurrying to try and ensure the conversation between the two parties got completed before I left probably got to me....

And gave me a headache.

The Ivory Keys

He sat back straight, head bowed, his hands on the ivory piano keys. Motionless.
Forever motionless now. Forever voiceless.
A single tear fell onto the keys as he withdrew his hands, no notes played.
Bandaged as they were he'd only create noise instead of music.
Unbandaged....it would be the same.

He exhaled in a shaky breath. With time, the doctors said he'd regain some use of his hands.
Some.
Not all.
It had already been too long, with too little progress.
Reluctantly, he slid from the piano bench, standing.
Shattered dreams. That's what he had left.

"Do you hate him?"
He whirled around, eyes searching the darkened piano hall. "Who's there?" He called out. Why would anyone be here at night? Let alone a woman?
"Do you hate him?" she repeated, her voice coming from a different direction. "The one who broke your hands?" She continued as he turned again to the source of her voice.
"It...was an accident." he said slowly, holding his injured hands close to his chest. "My own fault...." He couldn't just let the boy die. If he'd been faster....they both could have gotten out uninjured.
"You have yet to answer my question though, Jack. Do you hate him?"
Again, the voice from a different direction. He frowned. "No, alright. I don't hate the boy. Why do you want to know so badly?"
"Because I don't help people with hatred in their hearts. It never ends well."
"I don't need help." He retorted under his breath. "I can do just fine on my own."
"You give up on your dreams that quickly, Jack? What if I was offering to fix your hands? So you could play once more."
Jack frowned. "The doctors said."
"I'm not a doctor, I work....differently."
"I'm not a fool to trust in mystic cures--"
Her laughter echoed unnaturally through the hall. "Not desperate for help are you?"
"I'm aware of my circumstances, that's all." He said looking down at his hands. "Of course I'd love to play again, piano has been my life. But if I have to give it up in order to save another. I'd call it a fair trade."

-Inspiration from watching an Episode of Detective Conan, where a talented pianist ends up getting his hands injured.

Smoke

It was the smoke.

Somewhere in the valley, there's a fire burning.
A strong one too, where the smoke is permeating everywhere.
Normally I don't mind campfires.

But campfire smoke is something else entirely.
For some reason the smell is rather irritating to me.
And campfire smoke likes to 'stick' to things.

Like hair.
So even when you leave the fire.
Your hair still smells like it.

I don't like it when that happens.
Because then it still smells like there is smoke all around me even when there isn't.

Which tends to irritate me and cause me headaches.

So tonight, somewhere there was a fire burning, and while I was outside on an errand....the smoke stuck. XP bleh.

Thankfully I could take a shower once I got home to get rid of the scent.
But it didn't stop the headache from happening. :(

Brain: Hey!! What about this cool idea for a story!
Me: O.O Oooo!!!
Brain: Right?! And it will go like this and this and that and this.
Me: Wait. Wait. WAIT!! We need to be going to bed. We need to sleep. No more story ideas.
Brain: But this!
Me: NO!!
Brain: Fine. *pouts* What about having imaginary work conversations instead?! That could be fun.
Me: O.O No. No. I change my mind. Go back to the story ideas.
Brain: Okay!!!
*ends up awake for most of the night.*

Togetherness

It was the group work.

I hate it when we have to do groups, no matter the situation. I really do.
And it seems like my new ward at church is overly fond of that particular teaching strategy.

This is the third time I've been to the ward.
And every single time in Relief Society there is a moment where they have us get into groups to answer some random question.
>.<
I experienced it just once in one of the Sunday School classes, once was enough. I managed to find a class that didn't do the group work.

Still couldn't manage to avoid it in Relief Society though.
And today, annoyingly enough, the group work lasted most of the time.

Like I said.
I don't like group work.
As that requires talking to other people.
And I prefer to listen, take notes, and just do my own thing --like writing down story ideas as I can focus really well on that in church when I can't elsewhere.

So the fact that I was in group work once more again today. Where I couldn't focus on what I wanted to focus on.

Got on my nerves.
And when things get on my nerves.
It tenses me up.

Add to that that there was a girl behind me with hiccups that were annoyingly consistent....

I ended up with a slight headache.
Thankfully, it didn't last long. This time.

A Moment To Myself

I grabbed my favorite set of blankets, wrapping them around me as I turned off the lights and settled down into a corner, pulling one blanket over my eyes, to make the darkness darker.
A moment to myself.
A moment to be vulnerable.

They didn't realize how much I had been hurt by their words.
How much I wanted to fight back.
But I'd learned long ago that fighting back only resulted in more pain and more fights.
It was a never ending cycle.

That didn't mean that staying quiet was easier.
That plastering a smile on my face to pretend I wasn't affected.
I was.
But I wouldn't show them that it did.

They wouldn't win.
I rested my head on my knees.
They wouldn't win.

-Inspiration from negative experiences

Brain: We should draw.
Me: You know we're not that great at drawing.
Brain: But just think!! COMICS!! We could illustrate our stories! We could draw scenes! We could do so much!!
Me: But we aren't that good at drawing. We'll get frustrated. Remember. We've gotten frustrated before.
Brain: Come on, just think. Imagine it. The pictures. The colors.
Me: And which hand exactly is going to draw this? Because neither one of ours can currently.
Brain: Who knows! We may have suddenly developed a talent. Lets try it!
Me: *draws*
Brain. *wails* WHY IS IT NOT LOOKING LIKE WHAT I IMAGINED??!!?
Me: Because. We. Can't. Draw.
Brain: *continues wailing*

Brain: You know, we've been watching a lot of mysteries recently.
Me: Yah, it's a good show.
Brain: Yes it is! But you know what would be super cool?
Me: *exhales* What??
Brain: What if we started doing a weekly blog post where we do a murder mystery! Where we show a crime and then see if the readers of the blog figure out who the culprit is before we reveal them!
Me: ....So...basically write a story about a murder and let the readers solve it.
Brain: Exactly!
Me: That sounds intere---
Brain: So! First we need to come up with a murder scene, then provide some clues to who the murderer is. Next we definitely need some suspects. What do you think three? or five? Five could be good. Now we'd also need a motive, and....huh....do you think we should have pictures of the crime scenes and the suspects? That means we'll need some volunteers, some photos, lots of props, some good locations---

To What Effect?

"Fortunately, they only ingested a small portion of the poison, so they'll pull through eventually, but it is unclear how this drug will effect them in the long run." The doctor said, wiping his hands. His brow creased. "We know too much of a dose will kill a person, but small ones may have other effects."
"Like what?" She asked in a small voice, looking to the two young men.
"It's hard to say. We'll find out more once we get them to a hospital and run some tests."

-Inspiration from a line from Detective Conan Movie 8

Too Poor to Rob pt3

Heavy set bouncers, guys so tall they had to duck to get under my door, a martial artist, a couple guys who looked like they should still be in high school, some wrestlers, and then a couple average looking men, streamed into my house. The wrestlers and the bouncers carrying couches and tables. The guy who looked like he could be in a karate movie carrying a large tv, the average joes holding chairs, and the burglar carrying in a rug. "Come on man, don't stand there like a statue, where do you want us to put it all?" he demanded with a smirk.

"Uh...uh..." was all I could stutter out. My eyes probably were flying saucer sized at this point. I had to be dreaming. "The...the couch can go under the window." I finally suggested.

"And have the glare of the sun on the tv? No way." The burglar said with a frown. "No wonder you have nothing here, can you even decorate?" He rolled his eyes. "Jay, Ezzee put that down by the door. Two Pic, John, and Scamp, table and chairs over there." He quickly directed the strangers and before I knew it...my tiny place actually looked like someone lived there.

The burglar grabbed me by the shoulders and propelled me to the couch, forcing me to sit. "You can sleep here tonight, it's going to take us a bit longer to find a bed."

I gaped at him. "A bed?" I repeated.

"Yah, this thing that people sleep on at night?" He shook his head. "Honestly, man. What do you expect to continue to sleep on? The floor? You're better than that, being in college and all."

"I...I...I"

"Should probably wait to form complete sentences until after the food arrives." He interrupted me again. "Don't worry, that will be soon."

If I Ever -Teaching

If I Ever get called to teach a class in church....

I'm definitely not going to put my class into groups and have them teach themselves.

Mostly because I've never liked that lesson.
I prefer to learn from a teacher, not from my peers.

The lessons never seem to be as spiritually powerful when we have to go into groups.
It just causes disorganization. A discord. There isn't one voice, there are many.
And I've always found that difficult to learn in.

So.
If I ever get called to teach.
I'm actually going to teach.

I wouldn't mind if people spoke up and volunteered thoughts and experiences.
But I definitely wouldn't take the route of having my class teach themselves.

In the Eye

I believe it was my contact lens.

As this morning, I put it in in a hurry so I could make it to church.

But somehow there was a little tiny spec of irritant somewhere either on the lens or my eye.

That made wearing the contact rather jarring, like an eyelash that just won't leave the eye.

I wasn't able to fix it for a while though.

So I had to deal with my eye feeling irritated.

Which probably tensed up my muscles a bit.

But events in Church just added upon the tension already experienced.

Where we had to do group work. -which I hate-

And the tenseness of having to socialize in a new situation.

Plus the fact that I was hungry.

Resulted in me having a headache that's kept me in bed for most of the day. *shakes head*

Too Poor To Rob pt2

My fingers hesitated over the numbers.
Should I call? I mean, what would I tell the police? 'Hi, I came home and there was a burglar in my house, but he didn't steal anything, because I don't have anything to steal, so he said he'd be back.'
Oh yah, that would get me laughed at. Why would a burglar return to a place that had nothing to steal?
I sat on the floor, the blanket that was my bed not doing much to hide the chill of the night. I glanced to the windows, to the door. Was the burglar actually coming back? He had to be kidding....right?

I jumped as the door suddenly swung open. "Oi mate, why'd you lock it? I told you I'd be back." The burglar said as he peered his masked face in. "Didja call the coppers?"
I quickly lowered my phone, as I got to my feet. "No..." I said slowly, stunned he actually came back.
"Good. One sec." He disappeared into the darkness. "Hey fellas! Coast is clear!" I heard him call.
Fellas? "Hey, Wait!" I took a step, but froze as more people than the place probably could hold streamed into the doorway, chattering over the top of each other, their hands full of..... furniture?

-Inspiration from Tumblr post

Too Poor To Rob

I leaned my head against the door to my apartment, feeling the cool surface just briefly.

I was so tired and what awaited me on the other side wouldn't help at all.

I exhaled, already able to picture it, already feeling my emptier stomach growl. An empty room, an empty fridge. I hadn't expected to start my first year of college in what could pass for a jail cell, but it had been all I could afford under the circumstances.

I grimaced, no, no need to bring up that nightmare that I'd escaped from to mind now.

Reluctantly I slid the key into place, unlocking the shabby door.

I walked in, unafraid of the darkness. I had no chairs or tables to worry about running into here.

I didn't switch on the lights, the electricity bill in this place already had screwed me over. No need to use it more than I had to. I pulled out my phone, flicking on the light there. I tossed my school bag to the far wall, already turning for the sink to get some lackluster water.

"You actually live here?"

Startled, I spun around, light flashing across the masked figure of a man, a gun in one hand a bag in the other.

"Because I came here to rob you but, dude. You have literally nothing."

I exhaled, rubbing a hand across my eyes. "Thanks for making me feel worse." I muttered, eying the gun. "Just my luck too I came in while you were here."

The figure chuckled, waving me off, as he stuffed the gun in the bag. "Wait here. I'll be right back." He said tilting his head in a nod, and darted out the door.

My hand lowered slowly, the light shining a lonely circle on the floor. Wait. What?

-Inspiration from a Tumblr post

If I Ever -Along the Ledge

If I Ever built my own home....

I would place a secret room in the house that could only be accessed via a ledge.

This thought comes to mind because in my current house.
We have a stairway that leads down to the basement.
But instead of the wall being totally flush down to the stairs.
There is this random ledge about a foot or so wide.
That goes straight across.
Obviously probably meant to access the wall on the other side to hang decorations up that high or something.
But with how it's painted now.
If you're not paying attention.
The ledge gives the illusion that the stairs are actually a hallway.

So If I were to build a house.
I would have this ledge.
That I already desperately want to walk on whenever I head down the stairs.
Lead to a secret entrance to a hidden room.
Perhaps it would be a secret way to access parts of the house without being seen.
Or I would just have it be my secret space.
A secret space that I would probably disguise to look like a random artwork.
A secret space that needs a code of some sort to get into.

That way.
I would have a reason to walk along that ledge to the wall on the otherside.

Potential Trouble

The Garage!
On silent feet, I moved quickly from the living room to the doorway, slipping inside.
Cautiously I crept forward to the old door, straining my ears to hear.
Hear the voices outside.
Taking slow breaths, I closed my eyes, letting the rest of the world fall away so I could focus on those voices.
Why were those two gathering in front of my house?
Why had they been yelling at the neighbor next door?
I frowned, pressing my ear against the warped side, straining to hear, my eyes opening, straining to see through the darkness to the figures a dozen yards away from me.

"Cars......Cops.....Of course...."
I pushed back with a grimace of disgust.
For it being late at night, the traffic on the road outside seemed constant, the whirr of car engines drowning out the stranger's voices. No good.
I'd have to get closer.

-Inspiration from personal experience this evening where a neighbor was confronting another neighbor about an issue.

Unwilling to Understand

It was the woman on the phone.

I had to call one of our adoption partners today at work.
To let her know that our other adoption partner had been delayed today in picking up her cats from  us because she was sick. So she wouldn't be able to come in and bring her cats to us just yet.

I expected her to be understanding of the situation.
After all. Our other adoption partner lives three hours away from us.
The woman on the phone lived in the valley. So a near drive.

But she wasn't happy at all.
It's 'her month'
'her time'
'That group always over stays and I end up with a short month!'
"what am I supposed to do with the cats! I was going to bring them up today, now they have to go back to the shelter!"
"I'm very unhappy with this! You let Head Manager know that I'm very upset!"
"I want my cats in there by Thursday!"

Can you tell that it wasn't a fun 15 minute phone call.
Because it wasn't fun at all.

Her negative energy was strongly emanating over the phone.
Which I did not like at all.
It was just stressful overall.
And left a bad feeling hanging over me.

*exhales*
So I ended up with a tension headache.
Thankfully, I was able to get rid of it before I left work, with some meds and some pressure points.

But it didn't leave me with good feelings towards the Adoption Partner.
I'm trying to stay away from Negative Energy, I don't need people bringing it to me.

Pondside Memories

It used to be our spot. This bench by the pond.
I sat down with a quiet sigh, holding onto the brown paper bag.
I missed our time together, here. Watching the birds squabble over the small pieces of bread or crackers that we tossed to them.
But that time was long gone. We no longer had the same bond.
Still...that didn't mean I didn't miss it.
I reached into the bag, grabbing a handful of bread crumbs, and tossed them towards the ducks in the nearby pond.
It wasn't the same....

-Inspiration from past experience and watching an Episode of Detective Conan

Screen Time

It was probably staying up late.

You see, on my days off of work, I like to stay up late that night.
Because I'm a night owl at heart. So being in the darkness is amazing and usually keeps me awake.
It also helped that I'm obsessed with a show right now, so I stayed up late to watch bits of it.

Before falling asleep.
To wake up like 6 hours later to watch another episode or so before going to church.
A new church.
A new ward.
Which in of itself is stressful.

Then not take a long enough nap.
And go watch more things....

It's no surprise that I now have an ache behind my eyes that demands I rest.

Hopefully it doesn't resolve into a real headache and stays at the 'threatening' stage before going away.

If I Ever -Antisocial

If I ever build my own house.

I'm totally going to build secret passage ways.

So that I can access different areas of my house without having to go through other rooms in the house, that may have occupants in it.

That way I can sneak from my room without disturbing others in the house. And go to the kitchen without being seen or end up in the living room without having to be seen.

I'm totally going to have a secret ladder as well, to access the upstairs and downstairs without going through public spaces as well.

Yah...secret passages all over!! Secret rooms!

All designed to avoid other people. lol

On to Victory

I adjusted my stride, taking longer ones as I ran up the hill, climbing as quickly as I could to reach the top, to see the marker, to continue on with the race.

"No fair!" A young man behind me called. "We can't have girls running in this race! You should quit now."

I glowered at him, wishing I could punch him. Girls could do whatever they wanted thank you very much. "Not going to." I said, shortly before taking off at a dead run down the hill. I would make sure to beat him. There would be no way now he'd catch me.

-Inspiration: From a Dream

Case Closed

I suppose it's only natural, that after hours of watching a show in a foreign language.
Where you have to read the subtitles.
And pay attention to things or else you have no idea what's going on.
My eyes would get a bit strained.
My shoulders would get a bit tense.

Still.
It is rather annoying that a headache resulted from it.
>.< As I really wanted to continue watching more episodes of that show.
But had to stop before the headache got any worse.

Unfortunately....I didn't stop soon enough....
It wasn't a restful night for sure.