Person A  Fun with kid hands.  I dreamed that we were visiting (my family does a lot of visiting in my dreams lately) some people who (in the dream only) live in Vicksburg, and were outdoors, a sort of porch/carport area, when the radio broadcast a tornado warning.  I looked up and there it was, beginning to stretch down out of the clouds whitely against the night sky.  I said we have to go in, and (unlike most previous tornado dreams) everyone agreed and we began to head inside, but the funnel dissipated without causing any mischief.  The little pug dog and thin slinky grey tabby cat were oblivious to it all, I think.      Matthew Hart (hey! how the hell did he get in my dream???) and his friends wanted some alcohol for the evening but didn't have the cash for it.  I was falling asleep on the sofa and not really paying attention.  Matthew coached my older kid Moomie to call some other preschooler's house to find out if the kid could come over to play, because somehow this was supposed to result in cash for Matthew.  Maybe he was thinking babysitter money or something.      In the dream, I woke up from my nap and finished up a very important business document, every word of  which I had agonized over, and painstakingly designed the layout.  I set the thing to print and went to the bathroom, returning to find that Brooklynguy had lovingly made editorial annotations about my wording and style all over it, and had chopped up the layout completely.  It would take hours and hours to fix it.  I was furious.  Several kinds of weariness have been dragging at me lately.  I think months of shortchanging myself on sleep are catching up, and despite my earlier bedtimes last two weeks or so, the exhaustion hasn't completely let up.  Add to this the tiredness of relying on people who can't be relied upon.  I don't naturally do that, you know.  Self-sufficiency is very, very important to me, but I find myself pressured or cornered into trusting someone to do something they gave me their word they would do, to find that they haven't, can't, won't, or haven't gotten around to (but one of these days will) doing it.  This is so frustrating, infuriating.  I give my word to others and I'd die keeping my word, and when keeping my word depends on someone else keeping theirs, and they let me down, I've let someone else down.  That damages my credibility.  And that pisses me off.      Maybe I am not making myself clear enough.  Ok, if person A tells me they can get me something that person B needs, no sweat, then that pleases me, so I tell person B, hey I can get you this thing, hang on.  Then person A either renegs completely, or puts me off, or doesn't get around to it, or has some excuse, whatever.  Person B really needs this thing.  Ironically, getting this thing would help person B accomplish something that would greatly benefit person A!  I come off looking like either an idiot or a liar!      No, I am not gonna name any names.  But this reinforces why I hate to depend on anyone, cuz on the rare occasion I do, this is what I get for it.  And if you suspect you are a person A in any of my affairs, don't feel too lonely, there are several person A's going on right now.      I know, I know, I will pay for this later.  Being entirely too harsh.  Maybe person A really can't help being in this position.  Maybe person A has a person A of their own hanging up the works.  I dunno.  I don't care.  I'm angry.  My cred has been diminished.      No more trusting.  No more deals like this.  And may God help me never to be a person A.      Other things that make me angry...silly stupid things like the way the HuzBend is warping the kids' language skills through his own abuse of the language.  He is a non-native English speaker, though from his accent, or lack thereof, you can't really tell.  I keep holding him to American speaking standards, i.e. to be able to tell the difference between the ground and the floor, between fingerpaint and nail polish.  Stuff like that.  I must keep reminding myself that even the best non-native speakers have some word or phrase they will never master.  Hell, some native speakers don't manage it sometimes.      Plus there is still the verbal abuse stuff.  Swear words should never be interjected into a child's name, don't you think?      Lateness.  Failure.  Betrayal.  Hypocrisy.  Dishonesty.  Fraud.  Condescension.  I could go on.  So many things that burn me up that I look at on nearly a daily basis.      I do need therapy.  It's not good to be enraged much of the time.  6:04 pm      I don't usually go back and post more to a journal entry, but more has come up since lunchtime and I am having a helluva time keeping it for tomorrow.  Not necessarily urgent stuff, just urgently on my mind.      Like for instance, The Perfect Stick.  The whole time I was a kid, I never stopped searching for The Perfect Stick.  Boober's been doing that, too; I noticed it on our walk up from the shoppette today.  He picks up any and every stick and tests its weight, evaluates its level of rottenness, takes stock of its hardness and straightness and length, tries to see if it has too many little branches on it to be useful for whatever purpose he has in mind at the time.  I never did find The Perfect Stick, all sticks have some flaw or other, but that's ok.  It reminds me that no human is perfect either.      Someone once gave me some perfume, when I was a teen.  At the time I felt I was too old for something like this, for it was called "Delicate Daisies" and was very, very sweet with no hint of anything musky.  Despite myself, though, I loved it and wore it every day.  Wish they still made it.  Do they?  I have no idea, never seen it anywhere.      Diary-l has been really quiet.  Last two digests had one message apiece in them.  At first I thought it was a technical problem, but then I noticed that more and more of the journal authors I read have unsubscribed.  In fact, almost all.  Bye, everyone.  Heh, I am still there, despite my temptation to unsub after the Zach/Ape controversy.    -- Spring  link o' the day:  The Weightless Dog