Death In A Box

My dream this morning was horrible. While I was sleeping, I dreamed that I had just gone dancing at a club. Everything was great. I was with two other people who were supposed to be my friends, but in real life they don't exist. One was a girl and one was a boy. The girl had long hair and dark skin. I never saw the boy, but I knew he was there. The boy was in the front of the limo (apparently we rented one) and me and my female friend were in the back eating Panda Express. Anyway, it felt like any other night after clubbing. Tired, but totally satisfied. We were eating, and really, nothing could get in the way of our happiness.

Then something sorta weird happened. It's dark, right? Because it's like 3 a.m. in the morning or some crap like that. And one of my friends bust out a foam takeout box, yes you've seen them, I know you have, and inside was something more to eat. Watching my friend slice away I could see the skin and hair of a dead Asian man. It was a slab of flesh peeled straight off the skull. It looked like it was an inch thick. Once it was cut into cubes I was invited to dig in. I refused. I watched my friends in terror eat the man's flesh. Watching them gag I wanted to gag. Why would anyone want to do this? I started to dry heave.

That's how I woke up this morning, dry heaving.

Dark Pink Gernaniums

I was in my backyard tending my garden and I decided to check on the roots of my geranium plant. In real life it's doing quite well. I didn't think it would since I literally pulled the entire bush out of the ground and chopped it up. Before I put it all into the green bin for collection I decided to keep a few healthy branches. I pushed the ends of each branch into some dirt I had in a large pot with little hope that anything would come of it. For many months it looked like they were on their way to dying. Brown leaves, I thought, were an indication. Because I had no plans for that pot of soil I decided to let it be. Months later small buds appeared and soon flowers bloomed. Dark pink geraniums continue to grow today and I really don't know what to do with them except be amazed that they even did.

Anyway, back to the dream . . . I dreamed of one branch in particular. It's one that looks like it would suffer the most if it's environment failed it. I was so amazed that it survived that I decided to dig it up and examine the roots. I did and I found that the roots were healthy and green. They were about an inch long.

Then I was at a hospital with a friend who had no face. She was there with me for support. A few weeks ago I watched an episode of "The Big Bang Theory" where Sheldon gets trapped in the quarantine room. It stuck in my head because, if you are a friend of mine (in real life) you will know how scared I am of germs . . . and blood. My friends insist there is no way I could be a vampire.

So in my dream I'm in a hospital. I'm thinking about all the germs. And my mood is sort of crazy and helpless. I'm here to do what I need to do and get out. Of course, I walk into the quarantine room which in turn extends my stay, just like Sheldon in "The Big Bang Theory." By the way, the colors are sort of muted. Gowns are a minty, grayish-green and walls are gray. Accents of cool white here and there.

The next scene is me leaving and I've been given antibiotics. I'm sitting in the waiting room, but I have a huge concern with mixing it with another prescription I have and I feel like I need to talk to a doctor. And of course the only doctor available is unavailable. I asked around over and over again for the doctor while thinking about all the germs in the air and on the chair I sat in. It was just like in real life. No doctor to the rescue so I sat back down and waited as instructed.

This couple in front of me started making out like it was the end of the world and I was grossed out. Germs! Germs! Germs! Everywhere!

That's pretty much it. Germs suck. I need my own little bubble to travel in. I'm just kidding! I can handle it, but hospitals are gross and so is BART.

I told my husband about my dream. I usually tell him my dreams when I can. He laughed at the last part. He thinks it's funny that I keep dreaming about couples doing things.

By the way, I stated before that I had no use for my dreams. I was wrong. I do have some use for it. It's for me to write about and look back on because they tell me about what was going on in my silly life. One day I may even illustrate them.

One In Thirty-Thousand

So this is going to be a first for me. Last night, or this morning rather, my husband was dreaming. All I remember him saying was, "That's like one in thirty-thousand!" He sounded so goofy. But, I guess not as goofy as I sounded when I was laughing hysterically like the Wicked Witch of the East while I was asleep. But anyway, yeah, one in thirty-thousand. What was he thinking? He never remembers his dreams and he hardly ever speaks out loud while he's dreaming.

That's not what I'm really writing about though am I? I'm actually writing NOT about my husband's first, but MY first. You see, so after my husband pulled the "that's like one in thirty-thousand" on me, I took that idea and brought it with me into MY dreams. Friggin' bizarre.

It probably happened because I kept asking him what the hell he meant by it. Seriously, what does that mean? Maybe if I write it as a number . . . 1 in 30,000 . . . nope . . . still doesn't make sense. I have never seen that combination of numbers. Yes, and he also tried to get it on with me, but I went back to sleep annoyed by his "one in thirty-thousand" and also by his trying to get it on.

So I take that idea of one in thirty-thousand with me to dreamland and I'm super annoyed with my husband in my dream. We are cleaning our backyard area and we are doing work on the roof. I ask him what one in thirty-thousand means and he won't answer me. We see our neighbors packing up to move out while we are on the roof and the couple starts doing it right in front of us. I'm thinking that there is something very wrong here because they can see us and know we're there. I'm shaking my head and I turn to look at my husband for support and he's staring at the woman like he wants a piece of the action. I look back at the couple and then I look back at him. I wanted to hurt him. So not only did I take with me the "one in thirty-thousand," I also took with me his behavior and my attitude towards it before I fell asleep.

Anyway, that's the dream. I know I haven't been telling you my dreams in a long, long time. I have too many is the truth and I can't write every single one of them down. Sigh. Some of them are just not right in a lot of ways. I wish I couldn't remember my dreams. I have no purpose for them.