Insomniac Ramblings

No coffee, no time and no sleep not the best way to start a week.

I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night unable to fall back to sleep.  It’s not every night but enough nights to leave me in a constant state of tiredness, not exhausted but low on energy.

 It would seem I’ve got monsters under the bed.

These monsters are all the little thoughts that I ignore (or attempt to ignore) throughout the days as I find myself aware of more and more things that I just don’t get, have given up on getting and realize that perhaps  sometimes you’re just not supposed to get it.

 It’s funny looking back on the days of childhood remembering how I would think about how nice it would be to grow up and just get things.  How someday I would just know everything you’d ever need to know.

Well I grew up and yes I “get” a great deal more things than I did as a child but I’ve learnt two important points. Sometimes “getting it” doesn’t make it any easier and secondly I got a lot more things to “get”.

I think we all grow up and at some point realize that the grass really is no greener on the other side.  It even has a few rather distinct spots of brown here and there and eventually you realize that no matter how carefully you tread it’s inevitable that sooner or later you’ll step in one.   

I just try to look at it as spreading the fertilizer around.  If you step in a brown patch just keep walking along because spread all out, in the end it will all come out a little bit greener.

The Hunt is On

Plans have been laid out and a few pools days are in my near future which means time to check out the swimwear hiding away at the bottom of my privies drawer.  

Well it seems chlorine has eaten a hole through the bottom of one in much to friendly a spot, another bottom has gone completely sheer, elastic gone on yet another and the remaining mix seems to either no longer or perhaps it never did fit quite right and so……and so *big breath* it is time for that most loved activity of women the world over, swimsuit shopping.

I’m not a fan of shopping in the first place but make it swimsuit shopping and boy do I wish I were doing anything else. Cleaning the bathroom ranks about 100 spaces higher than swimsuit shopping and it is my most hated household chore.  To add to my joy I cannot wear a one-piece no matter how many I’ve tried on, with the exception of a maternity one (yes I was pregnant at the time, no smart-ass comments) I’ve never found one I could wear.  I’m also beginning to reach an age where I’m no longer sure if I can pull that look off.

One piece suits either squish my chest into a singular lung crushing breast whilst crawl up my backside or fitting top side and dropping of my bottom neither of which is a good/comfortable look. I’m what one might call top-heavy and although many women may consider that a plus I assure you it is not, as my upper back continually reminds me.    

I do believe I have a fairly good body image and most of the time I’m comfortable in a bathing suit once I’m at the beach or poolside. Perhaps not quite as comfortable as when I was 18 (man I miss that body) but enough to always enjoy myself and not care who may be looking. While it remains at a store however every flaw and doubt leaps to the surface and it is an entirely different matter.  

I like every other woman out there has her issues with swimsuits but I don’t really believe that anyone can look good under the particular set of circumstance that comes about when trying on swimwear.  Let us consider; florescent lighting, really whose bright idea was that one? Warped plastic mirrors, hrmmm a not so fun house.  The need to tuck your underwear into the edges in the hopes of finding out what said suit will actually look like without the extra layer, and last but not least the shade of blinding white skin that comes from being a Caucasian woman in the midst of a Canadian winter.

Really who can possibly look good under that particular circumstance?

No one that’s who.

Really short story

Her claws sunk into my shoulders as she struggled for purchase scratching my skin and leaving little punctures along the way.  I screamed and threw her from my back. Maggie stared at me a hint of laughter on her face.  “I guess you really aren’t a cat person”

“You think?!”

50 word story prompt, the picture is a random pull from wikimedia commons.

Quinzhee

Each year I make the girls a quinzhee. I enjoy making it not just for the girls but because I still get a kick out of playing around in the snow.  It's also one of the things left that will bring out the kid in my "I'm not a little kid anymore" 12 year old.

It wasn't such an easy task this year seeing as we have had very little snow and much of what we have had has melted away on one of our many warm days.  I do it every year though and so I had to try. The pile of snow to make our quinzhee this year makes up about 90% of the snow in our backyard. In many places I've cleared the snow all the way to the grass in order to get a big enough pile to build with.

I guess this is one of those things I got from my Dad, he used to build great forts and tunnels when I was a little girl that I recall as being wonderful snow palaces and intricate sculptures.  Imagination and the wonderment of being a little girl may be exaggerating reality a little but they're good memories.

I hope my forts and sculptures are remembered with as much fondness.