It's really quite humerous how everyone I meeting with for "career discussions" keep saying, "so this isn't really the place for you," (referring to working at Eli Lilly).

No duh.

This is a summer job, people, I am a replacement student, not an intern. Yes, I'm performing intern-like duties, but that doesn't make me an intern. I didn't choose to work here as a future career option, I chose to work here for a good job that pays well, and possibly for some resume fodder.

Anyway, it simply furthers my learning experience here and gives me another reason to believe I'm not crazy for not desiring a future job at Eli Lilly & Co., the god of Indianapolis.

I wish, I really wish I had more to say right now, but I simply don't.

Rescued From a Dream

I had the most hateful dream last night. Hateful towards me. I simply remember doing everything wrong in the dream. The world was dark - the skies clouded over as if it were constantly pouring rain or at least going to pour rain. This world was this way in all "parts," but I only remember the last "part" most vividly:

I was at work and sitting at my desk, but of course this place looked nothing like my workplace and desk do. It was a lot fancier looking though, I felt I disliked it more.
I remember answering a call or following up with a call (relative to Neta Scientific - this is what my mind related it to in the dream). After the call ended, I was wondering as I had been earlier in the day Tuesday about whether or not it was some kind of redbook violation and if I had done everything in the correct procedure. I sat back in my chair and the next thing I knew, the lights were dimmed further and there was some kind of alarm blaring.

My immediate supervisor came over to me along with the male supervisor I work with and they both looked very upset and annoyed. Obviously, I had made them look bad by making my mistake. I asked if it was because of a redbook violation and she said, in a very annoyed, angered tone, "Just get your things, everyone has to leave."
So, I got my things and started heading out with everyone and I remember something about being outdoors in the woods... That and feeling really upset that I made all these bad things happen...

Thankfully, my shawn called me and woke me up out of the dream. It was 3am almost on the dot, and we talked for a little over an hour. He only wanted to leave a voice mail - I had left him one earlier that night - and he didn't mean to wake me.  He cheered up when I told him that I was having a bad dream. He "rescued" me. haha.

Fate isn't as thought provoking as I...thought.

I've been thinking about that Ben Folds lyric, "Fate doesn't hang on a wrong or right choice."
Though it'd really depend on your definition of the word and concept "fate." If you are a god fearing person who believes that our destinys are pre-created, already set in stone, then fate cannot even have a choice. Your "fate" as it is, is preconceived. I suppose that is more along the lines of a "destiny" than a "fate."

It could seem to me this way because it's just what I believe, but to me fate seems to me to have different options in my mind. According to Dictionary.com I seem to be true to the definition at least. Fate is more of a result when there are choices. Whatever you choose, there is your fate lying ahead, because of that choice. It seems more of a short-term part, or a part of the world that comes in pieces or one after another. There hardly seems to be one overall fate one could have. That would be a destiny.

So for those of us who believe in destiny, can we believe in Fate, too? I suppose no matter what choices we make, our fate will lead us to our destiny. Kind of like those "choose your own adventure" books. There are innumerable amounts of choices, and when you make a choice - your fate changes, now there are paths you can no longer walk down, but others that you still can! And eventually, let's imagine they all lead to one in the same ending, you reach the destiny. You are destined to get from point A to point B, but you can walk the path that you choose.
And like the song says, you can't choose a wrong or right fate for yourself. The word fate has no preconceived notion of good or bad. (Well actually I lie, one of it's definitions is an unfavorable outcome). However, whatever choice you make - if you did make a wrong or right choice, you're going to end up with your fate - the consequences of your decision.

Hmmm, this doesn't seem as thought-provoking written as it felt when I was thinking it all, but then I suppose anything's thought-provoking when you're on the job. Anyway, it's a free-write, so I'm not going to let it go to waste.

Another Crazy Dream

I don't remember that much about this dream, mostly bits and pieces and the strong emotions I felt...

I remember being in a college dorm like setting, but it didn't look anything at all like Ball State. I believe all of the actions took place during the night, that or the days were gloomy and dark as well.

I don't remember why the initial killing occured. All I remember, was that I started killing people. The first one was to cover myself for some reason - like they knew something about me, or about something that I did. Eventually, things were catching up with me. I had to find new ways of disposing of people. I was getting way paranoid, losing my cool about it all.

I remember the distinct effort of chopping up the body - or I think it was more than one at this particular point - into pieces. I took the pieces and put them in seperate black trash bags. I carried the trash bags seemingly casually, but with growing annoyance of having to deal with these things. I threw them into a large garbage bin in an alley next to one of those old run down houses kids rent together at school. I noticed people were coming and going from the house like a sort of party.

Shawn came along and was smiling at me and asked me to come into the party with him. So, we go in and we sit in this circle where people are smoking a spliff. They pass it to me, and I drop it on the ground accidentally, and it breaks into pieces for some reason. I feel terrible and apologize, but they say it's alright and I pick up the biggest piece and take a puff. My head swims for an instant and I get kind of scared, but then the mini-hallicination ends.

But that's all I remember. I think before this all, there was a part involving John Cusack in a mall, but that led into the killing spree thing, which I remember more vividly in comparison.

I think my dreams are becoming lucid. This dream there were more instances wherein I would, while watching myself in the dream, think "I should do it this way..." or "it would be better if I..." and then I do it that way in the dream. It's really crazy. Yet still, I dunno if those thoughts are very controllable. I remember thinking that "I should do it that way," and it just seems more a part of the dream. I dunno if I could change those thoughts.

The coolest f*ing dream!!!

So I'm some kind of journalist in this dream. My boss had scored this interview with Whitney Houstin somehow in her home, of all places, and I was asked to go along with her. I was sort of the newbie/intern sort of deal, and I guess my boss thought it'd be good experience for me. We get there, the butler shows us in to where Whitney is, and she's wearing this absolutely gaudy, gothic gown. It was very 18th century, completely black, with a bunch of whale-bone (thick) linings in it and fox- tail sorts of linings. It made her look quite evil! haha, which is such foreshadowing...

So, Whitney is taking us through this immense house and I'm being goofy and asking stupid stuff like, "so you ever get any ghosts in here?" I think she said, "There are rumoured to be ghosts, but they have never bothered us..." in quite a droll tone. (Obviously she wasn't amused. :P) We finally get to this one really long room and sit on this little set of couches facing each other to do the interview.

Now, previous to this point, I had learned that Whitney had worked with my father's mother (affectionately termed "Grandma Joyce") with some archeological thing (no, Grandma Joyce was never an archeologist as far as I know). I thought this was pretty damn cool, so second or third question, I asked her about it. She really wasn't impressed about this, and said something to the effect of, "For my last question..." I was sad that I had let my boss down, and I could feel her glaring eyes piercing me, though I wasn't looking at her. :(

She answered the question, and the butler came up and handed her a tray with a knife on it. She asked us to then perform in a ritual she does, and we agreed, to be nice houseguests. My boss knelt down over this intricate pattern on the floor while Whitney stretched out a small piece of skin and held the knife to it and slightly just scraped the knife against the skin to symbolize cutting it. I was a bit nervous, but upon seeing that she wasn't really going to cut my neck, I agreed.

I kneedled down over the pattern on the floor and Whitney stretched out a piece of my neck skin, and slowly cut into the skin, starting a trickle of blood into the iris of an eye (and out into the grooves from there) that was part of the pattern on the floor. I was angry, but I soon forgot, because the floor started to open up and everyone and everything was being sucked into this void beneath the floor. I freaked out and somehow, somehow, acquired the pill at this point (yes, pill, lol) that would end the madness. Whitney was laughing like a madwoman and saying it was the end of the world, and I freaked out and just ran. I had to get outside.

I ran through about two rooms, thinking "how am I going to get out of this maze?"
I think my dream got a bit lucid at this point, because I thought to myself, "I'll bet if I follow my instincts and go the directions I think will take me out of here, I'll get out!" And sure enough, I went through about two rooms and I saw an exit to the outside, past this cafe area. I ran through and the guy working there almost stood in my way, saying quite casually, "I'm sorry ma'am, we're closed. I think I yelled "I don't care!" at him (haha). I got through one of the doors, but there was a security guard standing before the other door (double doors). I started freaking out, saying I had to leave, and he, of course - me being in hysterics, wasn't going to let me leave to wreak havoc on the outside world.

Fingering the pill I had to take soon, or the world would end, I was going through ideas in my mind to get by him. While I was waiting, I saw my father pull up (he wasn't my dad, actually, it was some all-american looking trucker guy, blonde hair, blue eyes driving a huge suv/pickup type car). So, I remember thinking in my mind, as the security guy took my shoulders in his hands, "Just knee him in the groin!" So, my person in the dream, did, and he doubled over in pain, and I escaped to my father's car! (My father even got out and gave the guard a few "what-for's" (read: punched him a good couple of times) after the guard came out the double doors and started after me. Thankfully, I was safely in the car.

So, my dad is driving me away from the madness all while this craziness is pulling things into the void. Everyone is finding out that it's the end of the world, and are going wacky crazy and "partying like it's 1999." I'm almost in tears and looking at the pill I have to take. I look at the glass in my cupholder, and swallow down the pill in one gulp.

Then, I wake up!
So cool...

Three separate paragraphs

Ah, I love lazy friday's.

They're so simple and carefree. Even at work!It's a three day weekend, so everyone's off on vacation, making it into a four day affair with lady bliss. Unfortunately/fortunately, it's also dead quiet, so if I do anything, everybody can hear it. I can even hear the Xerox machine printing my stuff even though it's 20 feet away and in it's own little room.

My apetite has been out the window lately, which is very odd for me. Usually I'm struggling internally to not eat that tub of ice cream in the freezer even when I'm stuffed from dinner. Now, I don't even finish dinner and the tub of ice cream just doesn't sound appealing. I've cut out a lot of sugars in my diet, too. The mountain dew's every morning were just getting to be too much for my freshly awakened body. That was the only pop I have been drinking, too. When I'm home, I drink juice, water, or milk. mmmm. Milk.

Funny though, I found this happenned when I had a hardcore thing for that guy my Senior Year of high school. I was having a lot of emotional issues then, too. I wonder if it's the emotional issues or the idea of having a boy around to stay "dainty" for. If I train myself to eat less, if we go out, I won't make a pig of myself, etc. haha. My mind works in mysterious (read: stupid) ways. Well, anyway, I'm not too worried about it because I lost a good size of weight while I was hanging out with that boy. Maybe It'll happen again, ey? haha - not likely. I also walked for about 30 minutes a day back then, too.

I really miss those days. We hung out every saturday night with his friends from around 9pm to 4am for about a month. We would go and play billiards at this pool hall up north on Madison Road, then we'd go hang at the Steak N Shake at Smith Valley for the rest of the time. We didn't really do anything but talk and hang out. It was awesome. I felt so "cool," I felt so "adult" hanging out with them - but I don't know why, they were all around my age. I suppose anyone out of high school while you're still stuck there seems adult, though.

Gasp! I actually took some medicine

This new medicine I'm taking is scaring me a bit already. I seem to be my happy go crazy self all the time. I'm incredibly weird and goofy and giggly and things of that sort. Not that it's a bad thing, but I just feel kind of odd that it should change how I feel so dramatically. And sadly, I don't like it. I don't feel like I'm the one who's changed things. I feel like I've given up, and the medicine is what will always make me feel good now. How do I know if I stop taking it, I won't start being all depressed again? (Oddly, this reminds me of "Stimpy's Invention" where Stimpy makes a "happy helmet" for Ren. Ren has this crazy smile on all the time and is psychotically happy, and he absolutely hates it.)

I think that's a major problem with the pharmaceutical mindset in America anyway. So many people just take their medicine to feel good, and don't give a second thought as to why they might feel bad in the first place, or if there's anything they can personally do to make themselves better. I think that it's important to take care of ourselves and I've always been a strong advocate of not putting strange substances into my body (the prescription side of which began after my tetracycline scare).

I believe in this mostly because I think it's important we stay in control of our body and minds. Who knows what we could do to ourselves and others without that control? Second, we could become reliant on those outside substances, when everything god gave us is supposed to make us feel normal in the first place. Do you know what I mean?

Yes, some people really do need those antidepressants and anxiety meds 24/7/365, I'm not talking about the people with severe problems. I'm talking about those with temporary problems who are handed prescriptions as a "cure" and go about their lives without a second glance to what they're taking or how they could have made their own lives better without the chemicals. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned, eh? Maybe I just like to think that the mind is stronger than the body and that if we were happy once, maybe we could be happy again.