Aunt Martha struggles to clean the garage, gets a Covid shot and starts taking her meds again

 

Once again, I wake up with just a scrap from last night's dreams lingering in my head. I'd been dreaming that I was living with Mom and Greg. I was in the garage and doing some cleaning while they were out. It was expected that I'd be done by the time they got back, but instead I had just begun. 

I was vacuuming and was very disappointed in the vacuum's underperformance as a vacuum. It had some kind of weird telescoping handle that I just couldn't get the hang of. I spend an inordinate amount of time vacuuming the same spot of carpet, trying to get the same small pieces of lint.

There were a couple of rolls of clear plastic packaging tape that fell on the floor while I was cleaning up. One of them unrolled clear across the garage floor, wasting nearly the whole roll. I was trying to tear off the spent portion, using the semi-sharp corner of a workbench. All I can say is, this tape was the most resilient alien technology I'd ever encountered. 

As I struggled to tear the tape, Greg walked in through the back entrance. He surveyed my half-completed job with the tape, and my poor floor cleaning job.

"Is Aunt Martha going to be done in here soon?" He queried me with not a small amount of disdain for my efforts.

---

That's about all I can recall. In other matters, I got the first of two shots in the arm of Moderna's Covid vaccination yesterday. Other than waking up with a sore arm, I don't feel any adverse reactions. 

I also started taking 10mg Elavil, per my psychiatrist's and my GI doc's recommendation. It's a smaller dose than the first time around, so perhaps I won't have the unwanted side effects that I got last time. 

I'm only making mention of this for my own future reference, not because I think it is entertaining reading, so you just shut up, you hear? You. Shut up.