dreams I’d like to sell.

Owwww. If I’ve been sickening for something, I hope this is it. Half the night I was up snorking and sniffling and the other half, I was settling down and trying–TRYING–to sleep. Have the use of both nostrils now but am by no means rested. Things are draining.

The dreams last night were extra craptastic.

There was S and there was that family/attachment, and then there was another gentleman with a family (but, notably, no wife). Then there was me. Pregnant. At the same time as a bunch of my friends. I try to tell both men, but they answer so strangely that I don’t know what to make of it. Then, for some reason, I’m watching my family dress me for my wedding to a guy I only knew briefly in high school, and not Biblically. The hell? It’s a black dress with white trim! And we’re having the ceremony on a jungle gym! I have, after the vows, a feeling of what-am-I-doing, and a vision that a) he won’t be fun in bed and b) he’s a psychopath. Yikes. Still haven’t had the pregnancy confirmed, and by now I should be seventeen weeks, so instead of joining the reception, I frantically search for tests. At first, the hotel won’t do one, so I go to management explaining that my new husband will shoot me and he has really good aim. Said husband has tailed me and tells me I’ve got good aim, too, which apparently I have. Where’d I get that?

I never do understand whether I’m pregnant or not. I only know that I want what I can’t have anymore.


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