The Consequences of Falling to Sleep Whilst Listening to the Smashing Pumpkins

Lately, I have been unable to recall (mostly) my dreams, for they're absurd blobs of half-formed sorrows and disappointed expectations that don't make much earthly sense beyond communicating... Sadness. Anyhow, I think I might have found the remedy, strangely enough, hidden in the melodies of the band which best communicates the sort of sorrows present in my dreams: The Smashing Pumpkins. I listened to them as I (quickly) went to sleep and had a characteristic (of Kristen past, that is) dream: I found myself staying in a house kept by an overwhelmed, corpulent, and Southern old woman whose son either was Satan or frequently served as Satan's puppet. It was comically scary... I told "Satan" that vegetables and fruits would help with his constipation.

(You'd dream of Satan, too... LOL)

There was more to my still-absurd dream, but that's the only highlight worth a mention.

In other news, I still hover at 130 lbs. BAH! I don't think I'll ever be able to regulate myself between 120-125 (my preferred weights) with diabetes. I used to fluctuate: sometimes, I'd eat more; other times, I'd eat less. Now, because of the set-up I'm on with long-lasting and rapid-acting insulins, I have to eat 1800 calories a day- at least- to keep away hypoglycemia.... Which means that I remain at this darned weight. BAH.

Speaking of diabetes, I intend on doing a post here dedicated solely to my experience with it in the beginning and before I knew I was diabetic (NOW INCLUDING the the oh-so-interesting account of why I still have nail fungus!).