Insanity Strikes! Passively… Why am I doing this?

Insanity tries to influence your life in many ways, and most times what Insanity suggests you do you will NOT do because you know, logically, that it’ll get you in trouble. Or it’s weird. Or it’ll be embarrassing and beyond how weird you’re willing to be.

Especially in public.

The crazy ideas will make you smile, either as you are thinking it or as you think on it later, but you will recognize it as a crazy idea or thought. Insanity will be barking out these ideas, spewing them like a unicorn spews rainbows to tap dance upon, pantomiming them in your daydreams until that muscle in your face that you never consciously use starts twitching. Then Insanity will point out that you actually developed an eye twitch, and you may or may not follow the suggestion to tell your friend excitedly that that ACTUALLY happened.

It is in this way that we can join forces with Sanity to keep out of jail or a padded room.

But it is when Insanity suggests things in a more passive way is where you have to watch out.

Do you know what I mean? That passive idea from Insanity that isn’t so hard that you have to go out of your way to do, or is private enough that you don’t see why you don’t NOT have to do it.

Take my morning for example.

I’m getting ready to leave for home for the Christmas break, have another 2.5 hours until I have to leave to have a LOT of time to wait at the train station… And this is after having a shower and finishing pacing and making sure that anything spoil-able in the apartment doesn’t have the chance to go off…

So I rolled out of bed and texted my Mom to not call to make sure I’m up (something that we established last night), gathered up all of the things I need to take a shower and went to the bathroom.

As a side note, I had to gather up everything because after the beginning probation period I set, my bathroom co-user has failed phenomenally in displaying the right amount of sanitary sense. He leaves thousands of tiny little nasty hairs on the floor of the shower, is gross with the soap bar at the sink and suds up a ring around the entire sink and on the floor… and he also, for some reason, hides the shower spray and the toilet bowl cleaner behind the toilet. I’m not leaving any of my soaps, shampoos/conditioner/body wash or towels or bath mat (for the shower) within easy access.

But I had my shower, cleaned myself up, dried myself off, and was going to put back on my pj’s… why? Because I was too lazy to grab clothing, and my pj’s were clean enough.

But apparently not, because after finishing putting on my pajama pants, I was about to put back on the shirt I had decided on as a pajama top when I decided to give the sniff test.

The sniff test, for those who are denying that they do it, is the test to see if your shirt actually smells that bad. For me at least, the sniff test has three levels.

One is that I’m checking if it’s something I’ve already washed but forgot.

Two is checking if that shirt I’ve already worn is fit to be worn again.

Three is to see if it is something I’m fine sleeping in. I don’t have any designated sleeping shirt except for the few shirts I have that are hole filled and kind of grungy shirts that I keep hold of for sentimental reasons. Like my SkyDome t-shirt. It will never really be the Rogers Centre in my mind. Never.

But the shirt I had slept in last night no longer passed the third sniff test, and so I folded it up in my bath mat with my soaps and whatnot, wrapped my towel around my torso, and made the short walk back to my room.

Here is where Insanity suggests, passively, disinterestedly, offhandedly, in such a way that it seems totally logical… the idea that has me writing this up now.

“Why do you have to put a shirt on now?”

Well, I don’t.

Not really…

And by NOT putting on a shirt it means I can procrastinate putting together an outfit for a while.

If I put on a shirt now, it mean I have to decide on an outfit so that I don’t have to change shirts later if I really want to wear different pants.

And it’s not like it’s cold…

When Insanity gets logical like this, you know it’s channeling your procrastinating mindset, and it’s enough to get Sanity to agree… even if reluctantly.

So here I am, writing this up while I’m in the mindset, while I have no shirt on (because I know that some reading this are wondering), listening to tunes on Grooveshark, and wondering what Lexy will think of this if she ends up reading this during the time I’m on the train.

Part of her, I’m sure, is embarrassed that I’m writing a post on this, without a shirt or bra or anything on (That’s a lie… I’m wearing a necklace), and yet part of me is also wondering if she’ll end up saying something witty about this post when I next see her face-to-face… like maybe “Nice shirt… glad you have one on…” or perhaps “I see you’ve bundled up” or something even more vague that wouldn’t suggest to the rest of the family or anyone else listening that I was at some point going topless.

I feel like the song I’m currently listening to (Warhol’s Portrait of Gretzky by Hawksley Workman) works pretty well with how weird I’m feeling right now…. because I’m still not really seeing a problem with being naked up top.

And if anyone wants to know what Sanity says on this subject right now, she’s pretty fine with it… not really thinking it’s okay that I’m writing a post about it (Insanity approves), but since I’ve locked my door and aren’t parading around sans shirt in front of an open window, this isn’t exactly a BAD idea, or an embarrassing one, or one that will haunt me for the rest of my life…

Wow that has a possibility of coming back and biting me in the ass. Perhaps this post will become the written equivalent of a meme. I don’t know.

If anyone’s wondering what kind of thoughts I’ve had since being topless for this amount of time….

There’s a lot more of a breeze/air movement in my room than I thought.

My necklace pendant keeps tapping me. (it always did that, I’m just noticing it more)

The chords of my headphones are taking a page from my necklace, but to the side.

I wonder what it would be like if I had hair as long as it once was before I first donated hair a couple of years ago.

You notice the stray hair stuck you your chest/stomach (from your head) a lot quicker. It’s just more obvious.

You notice the recently dyed purple hair even more. (I got streaks to the lower layers of my hair… I don’t think I ever ended up mentioning this)

You look down a lot more often, and wonder why.

I wonder if I would feel more awkward about walking around without a shirt or bra if I hadn’t gone to Rangers and had a roommate who took off her shirt as soon as she was inside.

I wonder if this would feel more awkward if I hadn’t ever played strip poker or never went skinny dipping.

I wonder if someone more self-conscious than me would have stopped writing this after a little while to go put  shirt on.

Thought: Jeez, the chair back is cold

Thought: ACK! Shiver of DOOOOOOOOOOOOM….

Stretching  is weird.

It’s actually a bit colder than I thought it was in my room…

Thought: I wonder if any of my roommates will ever read this… hm. Whatever.

And now I have to go finish packing. Read Lexy’s latest post HERE, because it’s significantly more serious than this was, and a good warning to people who have dogs and buy treats for them.

I may write another blog post or two while on the train. I don’t know. Depends on if the train wifi is going to crap out again.

CAN’T WAIT TO BE HOME!

Oh, and while I’ve written about how Insanity has suggested  I go outside without pants on (painted on pants… use the paiiiint DON’T DO IT!), I won’t ever go outside casually without a significant piece of clothing (ie. a shirt, pants, shoes [in winter]…). To the family, if you were wondering, this is just an odd experience for me. Mom, that text you got from me? The one that says “hahaah, I’m feeling really odd right now… can’t wait to be home,” doesn’t that ‘odd’ have a whole new meaning now? Have fun with that 😀

Gone, Gone, Going…? Now? No. … Now?

I am currently waiting for laundry to be done, and feeling alternating feelings (no duh) of chest constricting stress and  fluttery anxiety, and chest constricting anticipation and fluttery excitement.

I leave for Grundy Park tomorrow, probably at the crack of dawn should I ask Dad now, and I am starting and finishing my packing today.

Yes I’m late, but I’m a procrastinator almost by nature. I’m procrastinating waiting for laundry to be done, because a while ago, I had my laundry waiting for me to bring it upstairs, and it was sitting in front of our freezer, which was left open, and it leaked.

I moved my stuff after it got wet, and left it down there to be done again when the washer was next free.

Mold grew.

I washed it twice.

I am washing it again, to get the sour-ish smell from it before I go.

I am not packing my stuff into a suitcase, because my Mom says that it’d be easier to pack in the car if it were in these huge, 3fx1fx2f ish plastic bins, so I have a plastic bin in my room, in the hall outside of my room, one downstairs by my nearly-done laundry, and one in the front room of my house.

Scratch that, I have TWO (Three) in the front room, because I need one separate for sleeping things such as sheets and pj’s.

It feels very much so as if I should be going right now, but then the chest crushing gets tighter with the feeling of Holy-I’m-Not-DONE-PACKING! untill I reassure myself and my insane part that no, we aren’t leaving right yet.

And then the sane part of me thinks of something.

What if I forget something!!!

Insane hears this as well, and slaps Sane on the head.

It’s because we’re not done PACKING! Get to work we’ve got like an hour to get everything together and in the car!

 Sane runs into a wall.

DOOM!

No, we aren’t leaving untill tomorrow, I reassure myself. And Laundry cannot be rushed.

And so I stand in front of the Door of Panic with my trusty Gandalf Wizard Staff solidly blocking the way.

From myself.

*sigh* Am I sure that there is actually an insane side, and it’s not just me?

Yes. I just happen to be strongly influenced by myInsane side when writing. Every writer has this part of them, it just so happens that mine feels the need to talk to me occassionally.

Insane people are in Sane people, and neither part are going past me to the Panic Room, because a)nothing gets done there, and b) NONE SHALL PASS!

All LOTR Gandalf the Grey jokes and references aside, I shall finish the Laundry of Impending Doom, cut it down to be hidden away in the Boxes of Plastic Containment, sealed away untill they are needed to fight the foe called Nakedness.

Shoot I gotta find myself some nail clippers, and perhaps a few more pairs of wool work socks.

Did you know that Costco has awesome underwear on sale? You wouldn’t think so, but they are comfortable.

A while ago, how many days ago matters not, Mum brought me to Costco to stock up on food items that will help in my quest of survival for the coming 2 months.

Working at a park is different from working as a Ranger in many ways, and one of which is that we don’t have chefs to cook and buy our food.

 For the last couple of weeks Dad has been storing away chili and stew and hamburger patties in the freezer, either in sealed plastic bags or in Tupperware , so that for at least the first two weeks of no-trips-into-town-to-buy-food I might be able to survive. I am extremely thankful that we get a lot of freezer space at Grundy (everyone, not just me, though I’d like to believe I AM that special).

I will also be leaving with print out and digital recipes of such things as stew, easy stroganoff (which is not a loose, sexually active Swedish general), salsa-couscous chicken, and many-layered salads.

We bought juice, meat, some veggies, cookies (the important things), underwear (they’re nice 😀 Sane: Don’t SAY that! Insane: BWAHAHA!) , and a whole slew of bread for me to make my main source of sustenance for during the day: Sandwiches.

To the sound of Pocahontas’ “Savages”:

Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Hardly ever Eaten! Sandwiches! Sandwiches! Where is my Mayonnaise?!

Credited to my friends (from rangers) sister. Google Map Delta. It’s a place. They live there.      😀

WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME!

No.

Food is packed away, and I think that I’ll go through the plastic bins tha I have already and sort out the mixes of shirts, sweaters, pants, and shorts from in them.

I will probably have way more than I need, but…

Rather have more than I need than not enough.

Right.

 BUT WHAT IF SOMETHING IS FORGOTTEN???!!!

No. Grundy is 4 hours or so away, and the Parents will be visiting fairly regularly! Back!!! Back from the gates of Panic!

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

 So tomorrow I’m gone, or going, or whatever, and I’ll probably be freaking out.

By the end of the first week I’ll likely be fine, but then I’ll start being paranoid about what, exactly I’ll have forgotten.

Because I will have forgotten SOMETHING.

But that is edging around my Gandalf staff, (BWAHA!), so we shall move on.

I was procrastinating a bit earlier, reading one of the books I liberated from my Mom’s school (they have a better library, and because she’s a teacher there, she can take them out over the summer), called “The Book of Lost Things” by John Connolly. The link will bring you to his site on it.

It’s good.

Like, Really good.

Most times I can predict what will happen at the end of the book by the time I get through the first 3-5 chapters, and I had a bit of a feeling about what would happen, but so many things happened that promised a slightly different outcome, I couldn’t put it down.

Of course, since Lexy probably won’t be reading this untill I’m long gone, I can freely admit that instead of folding laundry a bit earlier, i was reading this. I put it away any time someone came down to the basement, and started fiddling with laundry.

I still got a lot done, even while reading it.

…Weird.

The dryer just made it’s “I’m-done” jingle noise (sounds a bit like a small part of an ice-cream truck’s jingle), and this is getting kind of long, so I’ll bid you all goodbye for now. Whether I post small segments about my work for the next 2 months depends on if the claim to internet access is true or not.

Ciao!

~Doodled93~

Insane: THERE’S NO MORE TIME!

P.S. Afterthought: It is now about 10:28 pm, and I pretty much have everything packed, but I look at my 2 bins of clothing, my 1/4 bin of work clothes, and my slightly bursting bin of sleeping stuff (it has a sleeping bag and pillow in it), and I feel I am missing a lot. Clothing-wise. I know I am not anywhere done my toiletries packing, as i currently have only JUST put the all-important nail clippers in my tinier toiletries bin, and I have no swim towel, no shower towel, and all of my electronics (including an EXTREMELY IMPORTANT digital alarm clock) are scattered around my house. Mostly uncharged too. Anyone else finish packing and look at your stuff and thing “nope. Not done.”? Also, pj’s is underlined in red, as well as bin. That is rediculous!

Preparing for Parkage: Getting it all Clean to get Dirty

I hate laundry.

I really and truly do.

It takes little snippets of time that add up.

It isn’t so much the actual doing of it, though it is a pain to have to set timers and get everything down there (especially if you put off laundry and have more than one basket load to do), but it’s the fact that it needs to be done, and that you have to put everything away afterwards.

It makes me sound like a lazy slob, but it’s the truth, and I’m sure that everyone at least has some days where the thought of doing laundry prompts a groan.

Laundry is a bit of a must at the moment, making sure that my work clothing is all packed and ready to go for on the 26th.

I must have at least five work shirts and 5 work pants, paired with at least three tank tops and three t-shirts. I must have a couple of sweaters and a few long-sleeved shirts as well, just in case the weather goes Wonky.

The weather network says that it’s supposed to be a warm summer, but Lexy worked at Sleeping Giant Park, and it started snowing partway through a canoe trip.

So that’s adding Long Johns to the list as well.

That’s just work clothing.

Pants from the side... most times they aren't as obvious as this, and just have the same colour as the pants material for patches. I go to TNT for my pants.

To clarify, work shirts are pretty much tan/other coloured button-up shirts that have sleeves. The buttons can be undone, and the sleeves can be rolled up when it’s hot. But it also means that you have the option of protecting your arms from bug bites, or from unexpected coldness. 😀

Work Pants have very simple requirement for me, and it’s something that a couple of the other girls at Rangers found out about after the unfortunate sound.

Work pants must have reinforcement patches on both the knees, and, as uncomfortable as it must sound, the crotch.

The unfortunate sound is the sound of ripped pants.

It’s really not great  when one of your work shirts is borrowed so that your buddy can cover the rip in her pants, and it’s not all that great having your bug spray/bug wipes used up because people spray it down the rips in their knees to attack bugs that have crawled in there.

So Laundry is the next part of Summer Parkage Prep.

Fun…

Why am I doing this again?

Oh, right, money, experience, and muscle buildup, as well as being paid for a camping trip…

Ciao and Zzzzz for now.

~Doodled93~

P.S. Props for this girl for going on a four-day camping trip when life was a bit too much, and for publicly apologizing when she gets back because she didn’t tell anyone and everyone thought she’d gone missing, sans id and wallet.