Tag Archives: dreams

Before the coffee kicks in- the “it has mostly replaced my blood” edition

I haven’t done one of these in a while. My kindergartener is off to school. Her little sister is busy being three years old. The cat it hiding and my wife is getting ready for a pre-work appointment. I am trying to plan out the day’s errands and finding my brain is uncooperative. So the time has come once again to sit my ass down with more coffee, open up this blog, and write down the thought poops that drop out. So here we go.

Sometimes I think the cat is part owl.

Sometimes I think my children are part Chihuahua.

When did being intelligent start becoming a liability?

I need more fun socks.

I want to know why I have dreams about fighting for my life.

Where can I learn how to sew?

My wife looks really cute with glasses. And without glasses.

If my feet were hairy I would actually be a hobbit.

Has anyone actually tried to use a banana as a boomerang?

As a kid I wanted superpowers. As an adult nothing has changed.

If another species develops opposable thumbs and higher reasoning we’re screwed.

Someone should bring me pie.

What age will my kids be when they realize I have no idea what I’m doing?

I think my country should be called the Dysfunctional States of America. I’ve never known it to be united and doubt I ever will. Not necessarily a bad thing.

A hovercraft really isn’t practical for everyday use.

Am I going mad or is this just me getting old?

This is where I am going to stop. My thoughts are starting to become more coherent and that signals the end. Plus, I need to get my daughter ready to go buy some cat food. For the cat, not for my daughter. Though both my children have tasted cat food at one point. It was a learning experience. Enjoy your day.

 

A Pillow Fort of Awesomeness

I had a dream. I had an awesome dream.

No wait, I’m pretty sure that was Lionel Richie. Well, I think my dream was still pretty great.

Superman has the Fortress of Solitude. Is a pillow fort too much to ask? I dream of a pillow fort. A castle, squishy and true, that will be my own. A place of blankets and snacks and piles of books. Accessible to others only by answering three questions, each more daunting than the last. A Pillow Fort of Awesomeness!

But how will it be protected from invaders? The walls of a pillow fort would do little to withstand the onslaught of Vikings or other surly folk. Fear not! My Pillow Fort of Awesomeness will be guarded by trained skunks. It will be armed with trebuchets that launch bags of marbles and durian fruit. Also, I’m pretty sure pillow forts are low on the priorities of most roving bandits. Though I’m pretty sure my wife and kids will try to get in. But I’m fond of them, so that’s ok. I might make them bring their own snacks, though.

Now, to face reality. The Pillow Fort of Awesomeness is something that will not happen. Oh, the idea is glorious. But the time required for the undertaking of building the fort is something I don’t have. Also, the financial aspect of it is far too great for my pocket. Never mind acquiring and training the skunks. Never mind that I don’t know the first thing about building a successful trebuchet. Never mind that I really don’t feel like stockpiling durian fruit.

I just don’t own that many pillows.

Nightmares

Some people sleep  easily. I don’t. I’ve fought insomnia for years. In the last six, I learned that it’s likely connected to the depression. That actually helped me manage it a bit better, but a good, restful sleep is still a challenge. I have to take an over the counter sleep aid most nights, otherwise it takes me a few hours just to drift off.

I don’t usually remember dreams. I know they are pretty much my brain trying to work through stuff while I’m asleep. I’m just not one of those people who consistently remembers what they were dreaming. I do believe that whatever your mood is on any given day can connect to what you were dreaming the night before.

Today feels like it will suck. I spent most of last night having nightmares. My wife had to wake me up twice because I was yelling out in my sleep. I know in at least one of them, something terrible happened to my kids. I remember that they disappeared. I think something inhuman took them. There was nothing I could do. I can’t recall anymore than that. So I’m very tired. I’m irritable. I’m worried what triggered those dreams is something I saw and my brain is trying to warn me about.

Why don’t I remember good dreams? The closest I get is the random really weird dream. The ones I can never forget. I had a dream in high school where I was toasting bagels at Burger King for the Red Hot Chili Peppers, which they kept ordering with no stop in sight. Years later, I dreamed that I had been cast in a new musical and every other member of this cast was made of Play-doh. Again, weird stuff.

Otherwise, it’s nightmares that throw my whole day off. And why pick on my kids, brain? It was bad enough when you gave me that dream where our cat was stomped on and thrown in a trash can, sadly mewing the whole time. Then I had the one where my wife sent ghosts after me. So now we’re picking on the girls? Seriously? Is it because I’m not giving you as much sugar as I used to?

Today is definitely going to be a long day. That’s not even counting the large amount of pooping I’ve already had to do.