Breaking down walls. Mighty thought processes. Try and follow me here.

Well, yes, I would be sleeping if I weren't Sara [compliments become excuses]. But, you see, in my defense, I have have been doing much better these days, up by eleven thirty - twelve AM and all and at two AM this evening (earlier this morning?) I had indeed stated my intentions to be asleep in ten minutes as I'd already been slipping away more and more, deep enough into it that I was lofting about in limbo between wakefulness and unconciousness... something... I remember thinking I would dream about 19 being overcome with tidal waves and suddenly Palm Harbor was the new Vienna. A bit of a nap lasted ten minutes and I was wrestling with the idea of whether or not to wake up whether it was neccessary and my mother's voice was heard but all I could see was a picture of a hill in the style of neon markers on a black wipe-off board-- childhood favorite second only to black and white TV static.

My mother's voice was heard making a statement or asking a question I'm not sure which, but required an Mhm for an answer. And as the Dream began to reply concious thought was crawling by. Almost aware of what I was doing, I answered out loud. Talking while asleep isn't something new. Waking while doing so isn't either. But this... an interesting feeling I can't quite grasp therefore explain the significance of.

I sat up and said Hey Now I am going to write a bit and then I am going to go to sleep! because what a novel idea that would be, sleep at night for Sara! But the purpose of Things is distraction and yes I know, not again, but few things happened and there is a fondness there and look at all the words I've laid down so far.

This evening as I was going outside to the car. Somewhere around one AM. I stepped out the door and looked down and saw a very large amphibian creature in the planter bed. Now being a Floridian I of course know nothing about amphibians and could not tell you the difference between a frog and a toad because quite frankly I don't leave the house and venture into Nature very often. Despite my ignorance of my homestate's native inhabitants, amphibians are not particularly alarming creatures. But this creature [which shall hereafter be known as "the frog" for the sake of ______.]

This particular frog I had seen the night before. It was the same late-evening early-morning sort of time and I'd just gotten home after a slightly irritating though full of green lights drive home from Nick's (and while on the subject since I've not been talking about it all day so as not to annoy my coworker... I was going to say coworkers but it is really only Darlene and if anyone doesn't care about being annoying it is Darlene-- and yes I do mean that in the worst way possible. Darlene is an adorable little thing but not everyone takes so kindly to her bubbly dingy oddball middleaged mom personality isn't always so kindly recieved and she is quite aware of that fact--

(and while on the subject I miss him terribly as silly girls do when they don't get around to talking to those they are fascinated with. My brother did say that someone did call while I was at work, two someones, in fact. A boy and a girl. Other than the fact that it was sometime between the hours of five and ten, I could get no other information out of him. Oh how I love my little brother. But tonight there were words thrown about and back and forth and he said accusatory words about things that are none of his damn business and I lashed back not with calm clarity (because you can't really lash with feathers and soft things) but with a very irritated Yeah and What Of It? which should have been followed by a you little stinker, but of course hindsight is always better--

DAMMIT, what I have been trying to say is Nick may have called or he may not have and either way I didn't call because I wasn't sure of the lateness of things and blah blah blah the point is not last night and not even possibly this morning before he goes to work because why? I am working at eight in the morning. Yes, it's 6:34.

This eight in the morning on a Wednesday business when I thought I had only two days again this week (oh I got to see what Livid was like) but Liz, oh poor Liz she just HAD to come in and work a party yesterday because the other four girls on the floor couldn't have possibly have handled it what with being so busy watching the cars drive by and all and now the poor dear, she's sick. Aww, poor Liz. One of these days. I swear. "Hot and heavy, over 55, coming out!" and I'm just gonna stick out my foot just a little. Violence is.. no. But. If she "accidentally" elbows me one more time, I'm going to body slam her against a wall and tell her to step the fuck off. Then Ursula the Evil Manager won't have to try to get me to quit anymore. I'll solve all her problems. And probably break Liz' hip.}

As I got out of the car last night I peered through the suburban orange tinted darkness to my neighbors' property. To their sidewalk where a rather large frog sat on the only slab of concrete slicked by rain or sprinkler or something that desired to reflect the light from the streetlight overhead so badly it willed itself into existance. And there sat a frog, the biggest I'd ever seen. I walked over and watched it sit still as a stone, the only evidence of life a quickly pulsating shadow.

If this is the direction and the pull and the sway of my breed of thinking then you couldn't possibly imagine the bullet train of various thoughts and memories of frogs as grandfathers and such things. Having enough I smiled at the frog and turned around to walk home. Two steps forward and I turned back around. The concrete was a liquid plane of shiny orange sidewalk with a sad amphibian shaped hole in the space just above. But no I can't honestly say I expected to see him there or anywhere near for that matter. So this explains my surprise when he showed up in the planter bed.

I swear to god if you ask me how I could possibly know it was the same frog I will punch you in the face. Some things you just know.

Yes. Some things you just know.

I did sleep infrequently in short little bursts, but my back. My back is the problem here. I have tried all sorts of bending and stretching and cracking and walking and things and it will not go away and now. I take a shower and I go back to work from eight till two or three and if Matt doesn't show up this time I am going to beat him up (it's not me it's not personal it's not me).

Really. I will.

With a large ammunition of feathers and soft things.

end. 7:01am