Sunday, June 18, 2017


I was remembering Kara, a girl I knew in Arizona, and then the unwanted reminders of my parents just had to penetrate my dreams last night. Ok, can I please go a month – just one month – without reminders of anyone who ever said mean, evil things to me? Who laid a hand on me? Who allowed others to verbally, emotionally and even physically abuse me? Who threw me away in a time of need instead of offering support and being there for me? Every shitty relative, every shitty ex, every shitty fuck buddy, every shitty ex-friend, every shitty ex-neighbor and well, every shitty everything.

At least they are only in dreams and not reality, though there are a few scattered positive memories, however few and far between they may be. Like the time Dad drove up from Florida to visit when I was still living in the Northeast, and I was telling him about my voice lessons as we got into his car. Before he put the key into the ignition, he put it in front of his face and went “Aaaahhhhh… See, I’m singing on key.”

That one was funny. I’ll give him that much. But still, he allowed for so much grief in my life and I believe that biology should never be a ticket to being excused from such behavior. I wouldn’t tolerate, worship, respect or care about someone treating me poorly that wasn’t related to me, and I never saw why I should make exceptions for those who are.

Nonetheless, I was living with my parents in the dream and attending some school while working as well. I woke up to find it was after 10am and realized I’d missed class and some work. My parents were out and I knew they would be all day. I figured they’d never know as long as I didn’t mention it.

Then I took a shower and greeted my dad in the kitchen at the end of the day as he was rummaging through the refrigerator, and decided to tell him I was “bad” for oversleeping. In a hushed tone, I told him I hadn’t told mom. He just kinda went, “Mm-hm,” in acknowledgment.

Now can we please stop the parent reminders till at least the fall?

The dreams turned funny when my dear sis, who’s always there for me when the levothyroxine becomes evilthyroxine, even if there’s nothing she can do about it but listen to me whine, wanted to break into the house down the street.

We were living in the house I grew up in and we’d both been drinking every day. Not something either of us would do. That wine that went to hell yesterday would’ve been my first taste of alcohol since our Maui vacation 3.5 years ago. But we drank like fish in the dream and ran out one day. UPS was to deliver a huge case of wine for us that day. She came to my room and said she ran out and asked if I had any to hold her over till the delivery.

I said, “You’ve really gotten to like that stuff, huh? I like it, too.” But when I double-checked my closet floor, I found that I was out of wine as well.

Then she told me she wanted to break into the house down the street, pawn some valuables to buy wine till UPS arrived, then buy back their stuff and replace it before they could discover it was missing.


Back on with my busy weekend!

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