nightmares

When I was little, I used to wake up crying and terrified from bad dreams in the middle of the night. I would dream about death and gore and monsters and wake up too scared to get out of my bed. Instead, I would shout for my mom, who always came to walk with me through the dark to the bathroom and who told me that my bad dreams came because I really had to pee and my body was telling me to wake up! wake up! so that I would get up and go to the bathroom instead of wetting the bed.

That hasn't happened to me in a really long time, but it happened last night. I dreamed that my friend S. and I were being stalked as we went to a pizza place and we ended up fending off the attacker with pizza rollers.* And then he got smushed disgustingly by a car. There was gore.

And then I woke up and realized how terribly I had to pee. Also, I was freezing.

*This has an actual basis in fact, because I went to pizza on Labor Day with a friend and the pizza place was out of knives, so they gave me one of their rolly pizza cutters instead, which made me really happy because I use that to chop up my pizza on my place at home as well, so that I can eat it in tiny little triangles starting with the crust. What? Why are you looking at your computer screen like that? This makes perfect sense. The middle of a pizza is the best part, all saucy, so I save it for last.

...

I am only capable of one project per evening. I can EITHER get exercise OR do dishes OR clean the apartment OR write a blog post OR get some groceries OR revise my resume OR... It's very weird. Also annoying. Last night, I set out to do the following: 1. get a plane ticket to MI for October, and 2. get some exercise. Obviously I only managed one of the two. Fortunately, I managed the plane ticket. Not so fortunately for my cardiovascular health, of course, but it is a relief to have my dirty little mitts on a ticket that will get me to the lovely Mitten State.