For those that know me, you know that I am for lack of better terms, weird. I am not your average bear. I can hang with the guys, like a lot of women say they can, but they can't out belch them like I can. I can release the fury. I love subtle humor. I love stupid humor. And I love laughing at others misfortune. I could continue this list, or I could continue this blog to prove my point on how uniquely strange I really am.
I have always had strange dreams. The first dream I can remember from my childhood was about a witch that was hiding in my pre-school locker. Thanks to the "Wizard of Oz", I was petrified of witches. In this dream, my pre-school room had turned into a foggy graveyard, but the row of lockers was still there. One witch was in my locker, the other kept popping up from behind a tombstone. Ridiculous I know but it was one of those dreams where I was too scared to get out of bed to run to my mom's bedside. Too scared to scream out her name in case it would alert the witches, I layed there with my head under my covers until i drifted back to sleep.
Another dream I remember from my childhood, a UFO was hovering right outside our living room window, and when I awoke in fear, I was once again too scared to get out of bed because I was sure the aliens had turned my bedroom doorway into a teleportation portal that would take me onto their space ship. And once again, too scared to call my mom to my room because I didn't want her to step into an alternate dimension in route to ease my troubled mind.
Anyway, I reoccuring dream I have is where my teeth fall out. Sometimes they crumble and I spit the chunks into my hand, and sometimes my teeth are just loose and I push them out with my tongue or pull them out with my teeth. I decided that since I had that dream so often I'd google it. Turns out, when I have the dream, it means I am stressed out. Who would have thunk? I also talked to my dad and grandma about it and apparently they too suffer from the same reoccurring dream. So, dreams may be hereditary. Or my dad, grandma, and I tend to over obcess about things and freak ourselves out. So maybe the neuroticness is hereditary and the dreams are just a side effect.
Are you starting to see my point? I had weird dreams because I am weird. Great. I have heard that the average person only remembers 7 dreams in their lifetime. Not me. I remember a ton of dreams. I have also heard that if you remember your dream in the morning, you had a terrible nights sleep. Well, I used to average 10 hours a night pre pregnancy. Maybe I was getting too much sleep? In this next dreams case: it is definetly a sleep deprivation dream.
So last night was the first dream I have had since giving birth. And what do I dream about? My husband Mike is a wrongfully accused fugitive from the law. So naturally, he, my son and I are all on the run. But we ran into a huge problem. It was bath night for Sebastian and it was of the utter most importance that we find a place to bathe him. So I list of a series of places we could go to hide out including my Uncles house in Illinois since it is sitting empty, but Mike was too tired to drive that far. So we go into this huge mansion. And as we sneak around, we discover that it is the safehouse for the man that framed Mike. And it is also the same house where he is storing all his dead bodies!!!! People that we recognized were dragging corpses through the hallways and throwing them into random rooms. What a perfect place to bath a 3 week old!!! So we have to sneak around the place to find soap and water, then find a room to put his little bathtub in. The room we chose had a closet and I decided it would be best if Mike bathed Sebby and I hid in the closet. I'm so smart. Then, the cops came and arrested the guy that framed Mike. So you would think that Mike was a free man, but Mike wasn't so ready to run free. He wanted to wait until it was all clear to leave. But there was a crowd of gawkers surrounding the house and the cops let them all tour the dead body house. So we pretended to be gawkers and go out just in time because as we walked through the front gate of the home, the cops started catapulting fireballs at the house to burn it down with all the dead bodies in it. So we get into our Honda Pilot and hit the road ending up somewhere near West High School when I was awaken by Sebastian.
I love it when I can wake up and say what the fuck was that?
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