Thursday, September 29, 2011

THIS ONE DREAM I HAD LAST WEEK

The Double B has been off for several days. He ended up taking some vacation and just... didn't tell me about it. For about three days I'd ask "When do you work tomorrow?" And he'd laugh every time like he was the funniest person on the planet. I'm slow, but I did finally figure it out. (She can be taught!!!) My exact words were "Ooohhhhh...."

It actually came at a very nice time. I think I was just at that point we all sometimes reach (I comfort myself) where I really needed things to slow down for a few days and actually have my companions... companionship. It has been a big relief, and I'm currently trying to find a way to convince him to stay home and we'll just live off the government.
I've been trying that one for years, though.
Still no success.

I have so many very, very interesting things to share, but now is not the time. You'll just have to wait for the details.
Congratulations and you're welcome.

To succor you in your suspense and angst, I have decided to include this blog post I wrote last week but never published because it seemed so weird at the time. But now I think it's funny and am happy to share with you the strange workings of my mind. I now present:

THIS ONE DREAM I HAD LAST WEEK:

Last night I had a bad dream. It was like in the childhood intensity area, where I woke up at three in the morning scared to death, afraid to turn my back to the door and listening for noises. I didn't feel all that protected by my husband, even though I always make him sleep closest to the door so he can take down any intruders. I'm wondering how my parents would have taken it if I would have just snuck into their house and slept on their floor next to their bed?

Here is the scenario, just so you can shiver, too:

I had messed with some kind of drug cartel. You heard me right. Marie vs. Mexican Drug Cartel. The Double B and I had an incident with them behind our neighborhood grocery store next to the big field where I walk every night. I don't know much about what is going on, but I do know we have to run for our lives!(!!) Suddenly we're in the high school gym in the small central Utah town where I grew up. I'm running up stairs! These people have knives, people! And they use them, too! There's blood and scariness and I jump off the balcony, twist my ankle, and run out to the street to meet my partner, you may know him as the Double B. We're screeching down Main Street, and it's the middle of the night. They crash into our car and take my honey. I get slightly hysterical and scramble out of the car and the bad lady grabs me and pulls my hair back with her knife (have I mentioned the knifes?), and I know it's totally hopeless. Hope.Less. A very bad feeling.
And then I wake up. My heart was pounding. And I was pretty darn scared, even though I'm pretty much a "grown-up" and all. It is at this moment that watching all those Disney Halloween movies I have collected for the month of October just sounds too scary to follow through with. So I start singing hymns! Slowly... singing out with vigor and vim in my mind ... I calm back down and eventually fall back to sleep. At which point I become a runway model for Project Runway. I think.

Honestly, I think someone should look at my brain.

But I won't let them. So that's purely hypothetical.

Isn't that just delightful?
Wish you were here,
MaRetard.

2 comments:

Ducksoup said...

i would trade you brains anyday. love you rie. too funny!

Elise said...

Ha ha ha! My husband usually sleeps closest to the door, too, until recently. Now I sleep closest to the door because it's either that or sleep next to the treadmill. I say, that's what my husband gets for being out of town all of the time.

I CAN'T STAND those creepy, panicky dreams. Wisdom from your friend Elise: don't involve yourself with Mexican drug cartel. Neither your wittiness nor your awesome grammar nor your husband sleeping closer to the door will protect you. You're welcome.

You're so funny. :)