wiggie's even less than semi-facinating existence

I've had card & board games 2 for like, 2 years, without installing it on my computer. Jody and I got it for Christmas from her father, but as soon as he gave it to us he said "but you might not want to install it because I hear it's full of spyware". Then why did he give it to us? To teach us a valuable lesson about gifts that have spyware. I would say that maybe he should have just given us a real set of cards, but that would be a crappy gift, so I won't say that. Plus he gave us some towels that were nice and fluffy, which we needed, because we had a new home, and new homes need nice and fluffy towels. But they were a dark pink, which matches no one's bathroom, so they shouldn't be even made, but that's Target's fault. Not mine.

I don't know what to do with my broken cellphone. It's been broken for a half year, half of which I actually paid for it's service because I thought I might get a new battery for it. Then I realized I wouldn't. Then I realized that I don't like talking to people on the phone, so I didn't call and try to go through the hassle of cancelling it. So I paid for a phone because I hate using the phone. Well, not physically, just because of my generalized anxiety disorder. Or GAD. I'm nervous about doing anything. Because of that and my hate to do anything disorder. Or HTDAD.  But now the phone just sits there, useless, but I can't bring myself to even store it away. The thing cost too much to not at least look at it glancingly for two years. Sort of like any of the thick expensive reference books we have in the house.

I try to justify my not neat unless someone is visiting apartment/townhouse by thinking "well, if I had a house, it would be easier to keep clean. There's more room so less clutter." But of course with more room, there's more space to clean. But I don't like thoughts like those, so I divert my mind to what it would be like to be a ninja turtle. Because that's a much more important thought.

One night, a few years back, when I was back in Nova Scotia, probably dreaming of what it would be like to be a ninja turtle, my brother awoke me with a scream. Not just any scream. A terror scream. A "my brother is currently dying because a monster is stabbing him with his claws" scream. My brother's room was in the room down in the basement below me, so I had a good ear vantage point. So at 4 in the morning I went from deep sleep to down in the basement checking on my brother in 5 seconds flat. Very flat. It seems my brother, my 28 year old brother, had a bad waking dream. He woke up, and thought he heard little footsteps coming into his room from another room. Then he looked at the entrance to his bedroom, and he saw a little boy staring back at him. So he got out of the bed to touch what he was sure had to be a illusion. And when he went and touched the boy, he FELT the boy. And then he screamed like he was dying. 

I mention that story so I can mention this: my big brother is a wuss.

And that was the point of this entire post. Kind of.