New Year's and Stuff

For New Year's Eve, Dad, Mom, Jason and I went down to Grandma's. We did the usual stuff, had the usual snacks, and definitely had the salad after the ball dropped.

I've been uber-congested the last week or two. It got so bad yesterday that I got lightheaded from lack of oxygen whenever I blew my nose!

Yesterday I also missed the turn onto the 15 North exit so that I could go to the allergist's office for my shots. It was just after 5 p.m. and would've taken me twice as long to get to 15 via Ballenger Creek Pike as it usually takes to get from Jefferson Street to the allergist's. So I decided to just go home and get my shots after work today instead.

Later this evening, I'm taking Kimba to Outback for dinner. More on that after.

Last night, I had an interesting dream. I don't remember all of it, but I do remember that it was very The Devil Wears Prada. I even had an Anne Hathaway look-alike ('cause it definitely wasn't her in the dream) to show me the ropes. The boss, however, was nicer, even though he was very absent-minded. His name was something like Sir Quentin Quigley. I'm not sure if that was it exactly, but there were definitely Q's, and he was definitely a Sir for some reason.

In the dream, I was immediately set to work asking for donations for something I've forgotten since I woke up. I think there was an accident, or somebody was sick with some terminal illness (the boss was a philanthropist instead of a high fashion magazine editor). When I started out, I was doing fine, then the boss said, "Darcy, call my (here, it was either wife or mother-in-law, I can't remember which) and tell her . . ." then he started to stammer and be forgetful, and finished with, "the thing!"

The weird part is, my Anne Hathaway look-alike always knew what his cryptic forget-a-grams meant! Eventually (I was "working" in that office for three dream-days) I actually asked her for a crib sheet. She made it, and gave it to me on the morning of the third "day," but I didn't use it before I woke up. After that first morning, I pretty much sat there staring at the phone, trying to remember what I was doing. And Sir Quentin (if that was his name) actually complemented me on what a great job I was doing!

Weird dream.