We've all been having crazy dreams this week. Maybe it has something to do with winter, the cold, the snow, feeling like hibernating bears.
Sweet Potato dreamed she was playing hide-and-seek in the forest. She ran too fast, fell off of a cliff, and was headed for the rocks and ocean below. She knew she was going to die, and her last sad thought was, "I'll never be able to think again."
I am alternately impressed and fascinated by that last thought. At 11 my last thought probably would have been, "I'll never see my dog again!" Also sad, but not quite as deep.
I am alternately impressed and fascinated by that last thought. At 11 my last thought probably would have been, "I'll never see my dog again!" Also sad, but not quite as deep.
R dreamed that he stayed too long at the fair-- Well, it was a bar actually, but the fair sounds more romantic, doesn't it? His friends talked him into it, he stayed all night and, oooh, he knew I was going to be one unhappy wife when he finished his walk of shame.
Strangely, the same night I also dreamed that I was mad at R. We were back in California and getting ready for our big going-away yard sale. At the last minute, and without telling me, R decided it would be a yard give-away instead of a sale. Plus, he was giving away my new bicycle. That wasn't so terrible. The worst part was that he was giving away all of my memorabilia. I realized that people were walking away with my photo albums-- the ones I pilfered from my mom ages ago. My baby pictures, my preggie mom, my lanky buck-toothed dad, were all being carted away by strangers. I started chasing people down the street and snatching my treasures out of their hands. "There's been a mistake!" I kept shouting. I looked at R all big-eyed, and he just shrugged.
R woke me up to say goodbye, and I didn't even want to kiss him I was so angry.
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