another fun filled evening :)

Damn it, I just need to vent…admittedly she is really getting better in many ways. And I think I’m growing on her. She says cute little things like “there’s our girl” or “we missed you” or “this is your home.” But she is just so utterly grating sometimes. Well, all the time, but now and then the little things just get to me all the more. It’s just a little stressful to be under constant scrutiny, to know that eyes are always upon you when you’re around, and always going through your stuff when you aren’t. Fortunately my upstairs lair is still safe. No prowling there. But my little snack supply is sure to be investigated and if I get something new I “must have bought half the store.” Speaking of snacks, it is rather irritating to try to eat when you know she’ll watch and comment on every bite. I noticed I practically live off nuts and raisins lately because that’s what I can munch furtively or while driving. I mean, they feed me and Grandpa loves to do so, and I can always count on getting plenty. I just have to be prepared to either defend my real choice, give in to theirs, or escape altogether…tonight I was having some delightful Yoplait yogurt, and there she is, staring. Granted, I could have tried to avoid the situation and stick in my loft, but I like to attempt social demeanor. At any rate, she watches me and then comments, “yogurt. Hm.” “yep, I like it.” I cheerily replied. “Sour milk. We used to feed that to the pigs. I smelled the process.” At this point I remarked that at least I wouldn’t have to worry about her eating it, then continued to enjoy my bacteria (and then left the room). But if I want to actually do any real thinking or working, I can’t try to do the social thing, because she’ll be there staring over my shoulder and interjecting stories and comments every half minute. I mean, I’m sure it’s very sweet of her to offer these memories or mentions, but they quite frustrate the flow of concentration. And she still hasn’t quite been convinced that I am capable of doing things. She told me to lock the door before going to bed and I readily agreed, but when it didn’t happen instantly she told Grandpa I hadn’t done it yet and neither had I closed the garage (his usual job), so he’d better do it…good grief. Oh well. Just another day in the time capsule J Oh dear, she comes squeaking back again…