It's too early for attempts at clever titles

A few days ago, I had a crazy/creepy dream.

In it, there was a bookstore (good thing), but the girl who worked there had noticed something odd while she was closing up by herself (it was a BIG, like two-storied at least, with an elevator, building. Seemed rather historical-type of building). She had dropped a pile of her books and ran out, coming to me and some dark-haired guy for help.

We were debating on waiting until it was daytime again to go back, when Bubbles took off and RAN into the building. So, then, OF COURSE we had to go and get her ... might as well get those books while we're in there.

We went up to the floor where the books had been dropped.
For some reason, we ended up sitting at this HUGE, HEAVY wooden table ... and started taking pictures with our phones. As I took a selfie, I noticed that there were a couple statues behind me.
One was a fisherman in a blue hat. The other was some grey female-type statue.

Kind of like this. But in color, without the plaque or wheel.
And, like, ten-trillion times creepier.

As I took a couple more selfies (you know, so that you can guarantee a good shot, you take a handful right after each other), I noticed that the statues were ... getting closer. And the fisherman had this REALLY CREEPY smile on his face, like almost ripping his face in two, it was such a big smile.

I turned around to glance at the statues, since that couldn't be real. Statues don't move. Not that faxt and without help.

And I found myself faced with the statues, which, had indeed moved.

I jumped up, somehow jetting over to the other side of the table (putting the table in between us and the statues), and ... well, I exorcised them in Jesus's name.
And they did stop moving.

And we grabbed up the books, Bubbles, and ourselves and RAN THE HECK OUT of the building.

So... apparently, if The Doctor won't show up, I take matters into my own hands.

But I ended up wide-awake, not wanting to take the chance at closing my eyes, at 3:30AM one day this week.
So I then snuggled into Michael and grabbed the cat. And managed to go back to sleep.

Did you know that my scroll button, when I scroll really fast, sounds rather like a duck? 'Cause it does.

No, I'm not dead.

I wasn't in a coma. Or in prison. Or stuck in a well, waiting for Lassie to fetch help.

Nothing that exciting.

I've just been ... lazy? busy? busy-lazy? lazy-busy?
I don't know.

I have been reading more. So that's something.
I've been trying to get caught up on the bazillion bookmarks I've saved either to my OneTab (LOVE that Chrome extension) or to my list of saved links on Facebook.

I cleaned my desk off (well, mostly. But it's a VAST improvement).
I worked on the "junk counter" ... so that's better.

I'll work on the kitchen, since it's a sty.

I've gotten most of my Visiting Teaching done. Not bragging ... but it does take a little time.
I do my Visiting Teaching, not because I want a trophy ... but because I really want the sisters I've been assigned to visit to KNOW that they matter, that someone loves and cares about them. It makes me sad that not everyone gets Visiting or Home Teachers who are willing to sacrifice a little time to make sure that those sisters/families know they're important enough to merit that sacrifice.
(Which reminded me to go and fill out the VT Survey in my inbox. Which is NOW done.)

Most Christmas presents are bought. Some are even wrapped (not all of them. Not yet. Soon, though).

The good news, I won't be on my lady-cycle on Christmas.
The bad news = I spent a few days FREAKING OUT because I wasn't feeling the true meaning of Christmas ... and I'm not able to go spend Christmas Eve at Nana and Pop-pop's or Christmas morning at my Grandma's house ... and I miss the SMELLS of those places. And you can never go home again because time only goes ONE direction and I hate that and I miss being a child and I miss the feeling of Christmas when I was little ... and  ... and ... and ...

So, well, it made a LOT of sense in a few days. Joy.
(But I have a trunk of my Pop-pop's that spent nearly 40 years in their attic. So it smells like that.
And I discovered that one of the tables from Nana's house has a drawer that smells like their living room at Christmastime ... so that's nice. I wish I could totally bottle those up. Just in case. But I'll accept these as answers to prayers, anyways.)

We had our ward Christmas party. Bubbles had her first dance performance (some of the 2-6 year-olds did a little dance to the hot chocolate song from "The Polar Express"). She had a blast ... though it was a little touch-and-go at times. But, for the majority of the time, she loved it. So that's nice.

I've been teaching my Sunday School class. And I'm bummed at the fact that I'm only keeping one of my students for next year (The rest will be in the 14-15 year-olds class).
And, as I said to Michael today, I've been blogging ... but for them. Because I love them more (no offense. I love you guys, too. And I'll stop being a jerk to you. Pinkie-swears!).
And, it's not even like I've been blogging that well for them, either.

I've gotten through most of my library books. So that's a nice thing.
My main goal is to read my books and not get any more fines ... for, like, the next twenty years or so.

I volunteered a couple times at the kids' school. I've been taking Bubbles to storytimes.
I used to be caught up on dishes and the laundry. That's not the case anymore. Sorry.

We did our family portraits ... just need to get them sent out to people. And the rest of the presents wrapped up.

I (finally) painted my nails.

Bucket and I made brownies a few nights ago.

Michael and I ate cheese. Lots of cheese.
Yeah, I'm sure that we've done other stuff ... but it's been over a month since I blogged and my brain is falling apart. Seriously, it's after 2:30 now and I still haven't taken a shower. And I NEED TO.

We put together our Doctor Who LEGO sets (Michael got me my own. He's sharing his with the kids. Because he's a GOOD DAD). And they had to go and buy the Ant-Man set ... because Bucket NEEDED to get "a messed-up looking dog." (Don't worry, Bruise was totally on board with this, too.)

Bruise earned his Bear patch in Cub Scouts. Now to bust our butts and get him what he needs to finish a couple other things (and hope that our Cubmaster had some arrow points for his uniform, since he earned them, but they've been discontinued).
Aaaaaaaand, I need to sew some patches on. I'm behind.

Well, that's all that's in my head for now.

Just be excellent to each other. I'm tired of news stories and  Facebook posts about people being jerks. There are only so many cat videos that I can watch to combat that ... don't make me find more. Thanks.