Okay--so I stayed up until 2 a.m. last night--occasionally actually falling asleep with my head on the keyboard--rewriting the prologue and first chapter of my novel. I love the title of the first chapter: "Between the Dragon and the Deep Blue Sea." hehehehe
I didn't eat yesterday from 8 am until almost 8 pm. But I WAS proactive and brought my drugs upstairs with me on Friday night, so I DID take my meds when I was supposed to take them. Except for the pm "Just before bed" doses, which I was too lazy to dig for in the jumbled drawer (and I had been too lazy to filly the pill caddy last weekend, so I took the doses I didn't remember to take last week.) How do I stay alive? Only God knows.
heh heh heh
Anyhow--I have milk and cereal up here (that dorm-sized fridge has been useful for MANY years. heh heh. Glad I didn't sell it or give it away. So I ate cereal yesterday--but that was the end of it. So this morning, I ate potato chips and sour cream for breakast at around 6 am which is the ungodly time that my full bladder forced me from sleep. I need a spare bladder. One that I can slip on at night like one of those black lacy eye cover-ups that all the movie stars in the old movies wore. And I had an icy cold 20 oz. bottle of diet coke as well.
Of course, ever since then, my stomach has (justly) hurt like hell. Will I learn from it, you ask. Huh. For a few days, maybe.
So, I ate a carton of yogurt that was supposed to taste like coconut cream pie for lunch (it didn't--oh, it SOOOOOO did not.) Then I drank a lot of water, cleaned up the ungodly mess in my bedroom, including stripping my bed to the mattress since my cat oh, so thoughtfully barfed an uber-hairball on it, and cleaning up that fell over the far side of the bed--most notoriously, my plastic drawer of markers--since I was drawing in bed one night last week. I discovered a couple more puddles of petrified cat vomit back there.
Why can't cat's learn to puke in the toilet? Or on linoleum, where the clean up is easy?
I think they could do it if they wanted to. They just enjoy the sense of power and control puking everywhere gives them.
Well, I have my evil plot for revenge. DeAnn has some hairball goo. Komet is going to be force fed some of it every night until the hairball season is over.
Speaking of DeAnn, she and Jim have invited me over for supper, and I have to go very, very shortly here. She is going to touch up my hair with some new dye...The old stuff is fading fast.
Another injection of artificial youth.
But what I wanted to write about was the dream that I had this afternoon. Yes, in hopes of avoiding my just punishment (the pain of the well-deserved tummy ache), and to catch up on a few of the ZZZ's I missed last night, I curled up on the bare mattress and wrapped myself in my unpuked on white afghan that my mom crochet for me. It is so pretty. It looks like a giant square snowflake. And I slept for several hours. Well, at least three.
I told DeAnn if I had not called her by 5:30 pm to call me as I would still be sleeping.
Well, I dreamed that I was going to college, and that we all lived in these houses--small little houses in a quad--and the bathrooms were not inside the houses. They were inside a central building just across the lawn and side walk in the center of the quad. Any how. In the dream, I dreamt I was really, really crusty dirty. I wanted to take a bath, and I really needed to pee. Yet, for some reason, in my little cottage, I was completely naked. I looked out the window and no one was around. So I dashed across the yard and slammed into the nearest bathroom. Which was (of course) filthy. The toilet was covered in that black crusty looking stuff that grows in the bowl if you don't clean it frequently enough (do not ask how I know that bit of information. I'm sure you'd rather not know.) The tub was just disgusting. It looked like a leper had bathed there before me and left a layer of himself clinging to the tub.
I would have dashed to the next one, but I could hear Brady S. (in truth one of my students but in my dream, one of my peers at school) in the hallway. I knew I couldn't go out there--he'd see me starkers and tease me forever. And possibly take pictures. No. So I decided I would fill up a bucket with hot water and Scrub the toilet and tub. That was when I noticed that the tub had sort of a gutter around the bottom...a gutter about two and a half inches wide and three or four inches deep. (why--who knows the logic of dreams?) And crawling in this gutter were a bunch of really plump rodents of unusual size. Not the uber rodents Wesley and Buttercup had to deal with--but they were at least five times bigger than the normal rodent. Their tails were each about a foot long.
So, I knew there'd be no hanging about in there.
I listened and peeked out the door. No one in sight. So I dashed back toward my cottage--just in time to see this young girl that I was supposed to be taking care of head out, leaving the door wide open and letting out the two dogs and the cat that I was also supposed to be taking care of. They immediately headed in three different directions--and I stood naked in the middle of the green puzzling--"if I go in and put on clothing, I'll have no idea where any of them went. But do I really want to run down three animals and a pissy brat in my birthday suit?"
Ultimately, my fear of repercussions of losing all of the creatures lead me to chase them around until I caught the two dogs. Then I began to scream at the girl like a shrewish fishwife, telling her to get her ass back where it belonged. And she was screaming back and wailing--and people were beginning to gather in the lawn--but remarkably no one seemed to notice I was nude.
AT any rate--I finally got the girl to go back in. And then I decided I had to pee SOOOO bad that I would use the wastebasket--it was a true emergency. So I picked it up to discover it was covered with something disgusting--it was either vaseline or pure hog lard. Touching it in any way would get that shit all over myself.
This is the point when I woke up--my bladder near to bursting. I really, really didn't believe I could make it the seven steps from my bed to the toilet, but praise St. Jude, patron of causes despaired of! I made it.
Stomach still hurts.
But the wonder of dreams--my subconscious creating all those scenarios to keep me from wetting my bed.
Quite impressive, actually.
Now I am late going to Jim and DeAnn's for supper, which I hope I can eat (still feeling poorly as I am), but I wanted to put that dream down in writing while it was still vivid and fresh--and I was still amused enough by it to want to share it with you, my unsuspecting, innocent, and undeserving (of this torment) readers.
La.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
