Not One Of My Better Ironies

It was either yesterday or the day before that oneironaut and I were discussing the potential for our relationship to develop any sort of serious angstfulness. We were, well, pretty much in agreement that there isn't one. The greatest potential we saw was for something that would touch off someone's Abandonment Issues, which neither of us sees as particularly plausible barring natural disasters, which are probably forgiveable.

Today, a friend logged in. Someone we hadn't seen in a while, who's been having a hard time, who I've been worried about. Someone I've known for several years, and gtst for longer. Someone to whose gods I made prayers when she went in for some serious surgery (and as a result I got completely schnockered on port and posted very erratically to usenet for an evening; hooray for gods who have a sensible attitude on where libations should be poured). Someone I put in contact with another friend because I thought they had something in common that was important to both. Someone I've been damned worried about.

She had only logged in to say she wasn't going to be in contact with us though that medium anymore. And upon this revelation being greeted with the shocked silence it deserved, she left again. I just noticed that she deleted her journal, too; I suppose that means she won't be in contact with us at all.

Well, nice knowing you, I guess.

Did I actually know you well enough to call you friend in the first place?

I don't know anymore.

[ Dithers on comments on or comments off. Buggerit. ]

That's one way to combat depression.

Not one I'd recommend.

Got up this morning after spending several hours lying in bed with a meh. And dealing with really odd dreams. My subconscious is clearly nesting again. Or at the very least heavily pregnant and covered in kittens. (Hello, Bast; how are you?)

Dealing with miscellaneous meh. I decide that it's warm enough to take my orange out to see if light and heat will revive it, and I also bring down the pot with the tulips my mother-in-law sent us. I turn around to go back inside, and see a box on the stoop. With the logo of the place for the plants I bought for my aquarium.

We were planning to go on a dirt-and-tank-purchasing run . . . on Friday.

Well. Panic mode. teinedreugan is not unamenable to coming home and dealing with panic mode. I go out and get some things from the pharmacy down the road (my pots for planting the lilies in are too big for the tank). Got that. Scrambled to get food. Drove up to Ipswich.

I break this narrative to point out that near the place we get supplies for such things, there is a small, discreet sign: "Myopia Hunt Club. Members Only." Does this worry you as much as it worries me? Anyway, we were going by there, and there were horses and hounds milling about across the road from that. Very odd; never seen such a thing before. Sort of strange to know I live a half-hour's drive from that.

Plant store closed. Other plant store closed. Yet other plant store closed. Well, bugger. Went to get tank. I'm wondering if the parrot in the shop there was an eclectus -- it had hairy feathers and was the right shade of fairly flat green with the red and blue flash under the wings. Would have been a male if it were. Got tank, got heaters, got pebbles.

Wheeling the tank over the curb cracked it at one corner. Well, bugger. It was at the top of the tank; that's not as bad as it might be. And we were going to Home Depot anyway for dirt, so we got sealant too. Got dirt, though not the ideal sort of dirt for this purpose. Got bricks. Got rhythm. Got music. Dodged through vast hordes of of Fakus trees (if fig trees in pots are Ficus, then synthetic fig trees in pots are . . .). Got stuff.

He got paged on the way home with a borderline-bafflesome issue with the sattelite. Well, bugger.

Then we got into an accident and the passenger side of the car won't open anymore. Well, bugger. That made it interesting to get the tank out, as it was in the back seat.

Got all the miscellanea ready. Started working on plants.

It was just the irises.

This is the point at which I break down into one of these hysteriae.

Because it's time.

And because all of my friends who don't know all of my friends who have already seen this need to see the Dante's Inferno Personality Test. (Down at the bottom.)

( Too Damn Many Quiz Results )