Cosmic Sabotage

An early winter's morning at Oak and Palm Acres.

There some kind of phenomena in my life whereupon I notice something, observe, ruminate on, or endure it for some time, and when I finally declare it to another human being it suddenly ceases to be true. 

Some examples:

Two years ago my heart was hurting. Sometimes it felt like it would forget to beat for a second. Other times it would beat real quick for no reason for just a moment before going back to normal. Sometimes, it just felt sharp in there. This was disconcerting to me of course, but because medical things can make me unreasonable, I just endured the beatings. Brett didn't seem as concerned about my heart's mutterings as I wanted him to be, and since medical things can make me unreasonable, I just kept waiting to die. Finally, I compiled a list of rapid-fire health questions and made an appointment to see my doctor. 

"Does this bone feel weird?"

"No."

"Is this normal?"
"Yes."
"Is this broken?"
"Possibly. Does it hurt?"
"Only sometimes."
"Wouldn't worry about it."
"Should I be able to do this?"
"No."
"My heart hurts sometimes..."

A chilly beach venture.

She was also not concerned with my heart, which should have been a relief but since its my heart and all, it seemed more like the opening dialogue to the documentary film of my life that interviews all the people I spoke to leading up to my untimely demise by a rare heart condition.

"Didn't seem out of the ordinary," my doctor would say from the mirrored interrogation room at our local precinct, handcuffs searing into her wrists. My parents would be devastated. It might even tear up their marriage. Ellen would be bummed out. Brett, precious Brett, he's the one who hired the film crew. Avenge my name, Bubba!

My doctor told me to "pay attention to it for a while" which seemed like what I had already been doing. "If it keeps up we'll give you a heart monitor." Presumably so they could pay attention to it for a while. Meanwhile my aortic walls would be dissolving into tissue paper. Sure hope there isn't a timeline on this sort of ailment. 
Anyways, it stopped hurting and dancing around after I proclaimed its presence to my doctor.

Christmas Cuddle Trap.

Similarly, there was this very sharp pain deep down in my brain for a while - mostly when I exercised or tied my shoes. I figured it was some kind of pre-aneurysm but I didn't want to be unreasonable so I waited around until I got scared enough. Then I went to my doctor.

"Well, pay attention to it for a while and then we can do a brain scan."
"But I have been paying attention to it. That's why I'm here. How long do I confirm that it's still there before it kills me?"
"Come back when you feel very concerned about it." 
I went home angry, and my brain never did that sharp aneurysm thing again. 

"So-and-so is coming to the party!" I'll declare. They'll go on to not show up.

"This restaurant serves the best dinner rolls." They've switched to breadsticks.

"I'm going to go for a jog today!" Existence will wear me thin.

Things like that. 

If I really want something I have to keep it to myself - but I suppose if I want it to go away, I just have to spend the money to tell it to a professional. Consider it a convenience fee.

This is all Preamble to telling you that I've changed my school project because I foolishly declared it in this public forum and then all the ends refused to meet (so to speak) and now I've had to change it. It's hard to make yourself wad up an idea and throw it over shoulder when you already spent a whole big bunch of time working on it and you could see exactly how you wanted it to go. I still want to do it, but I've got more things to learn first. Bleh. I can't tell you what I'm doing instead or else that'll go up in flames. 

It's almost like the world wants me to stop talking about myself.

Fruitless efforts - The early stages.

In fun news, we've continued our home improvement efforts to thrilling outcomes. We took our sad, empty living room wall and turned it into an abundant book display, with accompanying decorative accoutrements. It makes our living space feel much larger than before, which was an unexpected outcome. Second, EisenEars made some fake beams to cover the tension rods in our ceiling and it really cozied up the place. 

If I had been able to take pictures of how we hung those things...