Lil’lady and I are by ourselves now. No more roommates. No live-in boyfriends. No one to hide my stuff from. Today my plan is to move things I’ve been storing in my room to another room, bring a cabinet downstairs, and generally get used to living just the two of us. This is the first time in her life that is has been just the two of us. So, what’d she do yesterday? Locked us out. Oh, gotta love it. Anyway, it’s going to take a bit more adjusting to get used to this, but… We’ll be moving again soon. I’m not staying in this house when I don’t need those extra rooms. I want to move away from Ohio, to be honest, but that’s probably not going to pop off anytime soon. I will move from this gods-awful town, though. Rest assured about that. I don’t need to be reminded of everything I’ve lost while I’ve been here. Not anymore. There’s no point to it.
I keep having vivid dreams, which is not something I’m used to anymore. Funny story: when I was younger I used to dream about Bobby cheating on me. Then a couple of days later I’d find out who it was he was cheating with. Eventually I decided it must be some kind of psychic connection. As I’ve grown older and learned more about the human brain I realized I was really recognizing his patterns and working them out while I slept. Of course, now I want to know what the fuck I’m working out.
Ok, last night I dreamt that I was in a massive flare. The kind that makes me so fatigued I can’t even get out of bed. Now, I haven’t had a flare like that since I’ve been on Lyrica. Apparently one is coming. Anyway, Sam was here trying to convince me to stay in bed – I needed to get to work – while the Doctor was taking care of me. I was really disturbed by the presence of both men. “Why are you here?”. Then I woke up.
Now, I can suss out why the Doctor was in my dream. I’ve been binge watching Doctor Who for a couple of days. And anyone who knows me knows I love that show as much as I love Buffy and The Walking Dead. I especially love Matt Smith’s inaugural episode. That episode is just tons of fun for me. So, his appearance (Matt’s Doctor) makes perfect sense to me.
Not the other though. I have no idea why he was helping take care of me. He wouldn’t have done that. I think. I can’t really gauge because he never saw me like that. I’m not sure he actually ever saw me in a baby flare, for that matter. And I certainly wasn’t thinking about him yesterday1. I had the other fucktard on my mind for sure. Oddly, I’ve never dreamt2 about that one as I far as I can remember. Still, he was the one on my mind yesterday3 so where was he in this stupid-ass dream? I don’t know. Apparently I’m working something out regarding the pup, but I can’t quite get a grasp on it. It’s certainly not guilt, because why is he taking care of me in the dream? He certainly wouldn’t be so kind to me now and I’m not sure he’d be so kind while we were together.
So, the real problem with these dreams is that I’m remembering them. I’m sure I dream normally, but my medication helps me get to R.E.M. sleep and never permits me to remember them. I haven’t had this many crazy dreams since way before I started taking my nighttime medications. They help me heal overnight and I don’t feel like such warmed-over shit in the morning. I used to like vivid dreams because I thought the foretold something. I know better now so I’m irritated as fuck that I didn’t get enough sleep for two freaking days straight. I thought if I wrote about them then the pieces would come together. It’s not happening. I’m bothered. I shouldn’t be remembering my dreams. I should be knocked the fuck out. Something’s wrong.
In other news, I plan on working on my projects today. Not sure which ones as there are a number I’ve begun that I’ve put off for a long while. In fact, when I started dating Lucifer I put everything to the side. I was going to restart writing my book, until Sam decided it was a fantasy of me having sex with my driver4. He was really a dick about it too. That’s how I knew I couldn’t trust him like I need to trust someone. Anyway, I’ve got my mom’s book sitting waiting to be finished. I’ve got a blanket or two. And I’ve got this drawing that I really want to finish56. Just a bunch of shit. I’m compelled to write here though. I was already starting to neglect this blog but when I got with Lucifer it went to shit. Really. I didn’t renew my site in time and they deleted my database. Totally my fault for losing myself in someone else. Again.
My future ex-boyfriend will have to wait for now. Unless Jason Momoa calls me. Then all bets are off.
I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.
- Aside from bitching that he got more mail. That’s a total of four pieces I’ve returned to sender. It’s a bit annoying. [↩]
- Daydreaming doesn’t count, I think. [↩]
- He was the last one of the fucktards with whom I’ve actually communicated. I was in a shock about that email. What the fuck was all that about? I don’t know and my dream didn’t mention it. [↩]
- This is false. I have never had sex with him and I never fantasized about having sex with him. Again, I never, ever cheated on Sam. [↩]
- Lars never knew I draw. I feel like I’ve neglected that talent. [↩]
- Also, Lucifer once told me I paint better than I draw. I took that as a compliment as he’s really good with pencil. In fact he helped himself to my favorite trompe l’oeil. [↩]