Not okay.

Far from it.  I found one of my foxes...ripped apart today while I was walking home from work.  I could tell which one it was, I recognized the notched ear almost immediately.  And it wasn't traffic, I cut through a field on my way to and from work.  It looked like something much bigger got a hold of her.  Or maybe a lot of smaller things, I'm not exactly an expert.  I left my dinner a few feet away from her, I couldn't stop it from coming back up.  The smell was just too much.  Poor thing, I liked her.  She was always the one showing off the dead birds she caught, I'd always see her on my way home from a late closing shift.

I know I probably shouldn't get so worked up over an animal that could have given two shits about me, but it still bothers me.  A lot. 

I never really had pets growing up, what with being allergic to everything with fur.  So it was always fish, lizards, or the occasional bird.  Nothing I could really play with or get attached to.  So that's why the foxes accepting my dinner invitations was kind of a big deal for me.  And now one of them's gone.  I don't even know if her brother (that's me assuming) will even come back around.  Which just makes me worry that the same thing will happen to him if he does.

I'm...that's all I have for now. 

Beastmaster? Not really.

Okay, so it's been a couple of days since the foxes started patronizing my porch for their lunch.  There's two of them, a boy and a girl.  The girl has a notch taken out of her ear, like something bit her and didn't want to let go.  The boy is intact, but a little more trusting, I think.  He actually walked up and let me pet him.  I was stunned.  he ran the hell away with the girl fox immediately after, but still.  I got to pet him.  It was so awesome. I could comment on urban encroachment and animals not being afraid of people and blah blah blah.  But I don't care because I got to pet a fox, which is my favorite animal ever. 

Sleep weirdness hasn't occurred lately, unless you count the lack of sleep as weird.  Which I don't, really.  Not any more.  Although I did wake up feeling pain, and I noticed there were some scratches on my back in the mirror.  I must have accidentally brushed up against some fixtures at work, I guess.  I've done that before.  I swear that store is bloodthirsty. Or I'm abusing myself in my sleep, but even though I'm flexible enough to reach my back I doubt I'd be doing that to myself while unconscious.  At least I hope not.  They weren't deep enough to really warrant concern, and I heal pretty quick anyway. 

Makes me happy I never remember my dreams, either.  I'm sure that would make this blog a hell of a lot more entertaining, but every time I wake up I got nothing.  Maybe if I remember anything I'll post it.  Turn this into an insomnia/dream journal blog, like there aren't enough of those on the internet.

Anyway, I'm tired enough to try sleeping now.  Wish me luck!

My foxes. Mine.

Old news for me, but probably new to you, I have a family of foxes living in my neighborhood.  I don't know if they're weird because of growing up in a city, or because that's how foxes are, but they're odd.  Every time I see one, it stops, makes it a point to look at me, scamper off, and then look at me one last time.  It's like they're saying "yeah, I let you see me, I'm that awesome."  And they'd be right, I love foxes.  They ARE that awesome.

So a few weeks ago, I decided to try something.  I decided to try and leave food out for them.  They out number the raccoons who like to dig through my garbage, so I wasn't worried they wouldn't get it.  They're sneakier.  My neighbor's dog is also a chickenshit, so no way would he try anything.

Anyway, it worked.  I noticed them on my porch a few days before I started this blog.  Gobbling up every little bit of kibble I left them.  Yes, kibble.  They love it, you hush.  They could see me through my window.  I was sure they'd scamper off to do whatever it is foxes do in the middle of the night.  Play fox games and go to fox parties, I'd guess.  Okay, now I know I'm tired.

Good night!

Again? Ugh.

It happened again, the sleep paralysis/nightmare thing.  I hate it.  No grey areas, there, pure hate.  I hate my sleep interrupted, I hate feeling terrified for no good reason, I hate not being able to DO anything about this.  It sucks.  At least it happened not too long before I had to be up anyway, stupid early shift.  Although attempting to get ready for work with cold sweats is also not any fun.  I was so disoriented, I didn't realize the shirt I was sleeping in was old enough to have all these ratty holes and rips in the back of it.  Oh well. 

Medication shouldn't be an option, I think.  Not for me.  I don't want to have to pop a pill to sleep like a human being, that just bothers me.  For allergies?  Sure.  Not for sleeping.  I'm going to look into possible dietary changes, see if I need to eat more or less of something so I can make this stop.

And yes, I realize the hypocrisy of using Ny-Quil to help me conk out.  I don't like using it, but it works.  And I don't feel like an alien when I wake up.  

So far so good...

Been a couple nights, and no sleep weirdness again.  Other than a lack of it, but I'm kind of used to that by now, so whatever.  The bits of sleep I have been getting have been blissfully normal.  I'm becoming convinced that if my work schedule was anything resembling stable that my sleep schedule would follow suit.  As I am also incapable of napping, my wacky sleep patterns are more serious than they would be otherwise.  Joy. 

Stupid work.  I need out of retail, like, five years ago.  I think I might actually get some sleep tonight, though. 

So wish me good dreams I'll never remember. 

Sleep paralysis? Anyone?

I don't know if it was a nightmare, or if it was actually sleep paralysis (I've never been diagnosed with it, so that would be new and terrifying).  I just woke up from a dream I don't remember, and couldn't move.  It felt like something was pressing down on my back, and once the sensation passed, all I felt was panic.  I thought it felt like something was just sitting on me, waiting for me to say uncle.  I intensely dislike feeling no control like that.  Especially when I'm all groggy and disoriented.  Being able to finally sit up was a relief.

This hasn't ever happened to me before, so I'm a little freaked out.  Writing about it is helping calm me down, though, so there's that.  Although I've had to retype several of these sentences about four or five times now due to my hands shaking and flinging typos all over my screen.  The Ny-Quil should help me pass out and forget this whole thing in just a bit.