Friday, September 03, 2004

Only in My Dreams...

Yes, you can thank me for that Debbie Deborah Gibson moment. Let the deluge of DG related hatemail begin.

No, no, seriously! Have you ever had those dreams that make you angry at someone for something they did in your dream? Then, you hold a grudge over a completely imagined occurrence? I am fully aware that this is unreasonable, border line behavior. But it happens to me all the time. Clearly, I need therapy.

Last night, for instance. A peaceful, temperate, spooning-conducive late summer night, spent in blissful slumber curled up with the love of my life. And the cursed dream machine sabotages it all by making me dream that Tim cheated on me with a hooker and gave me an STD. Wha?

Let me be clear - Tim's not the cheatin' kind. I have no doubts whatsoever regarding his fidelity. Even if I did, the man's so full of recovering Catholic guilt that he couldn't do it anyway, and certainly not with a lady of the night. And obsessive enough about personal hygiene, cleanliness and a healthy New Yorker-ly sense of paranoia that there would certainly be no STD's involved, even if all of the above were in question.

So I wake up at four a.m., the dream so clearly entrenched in my psyche that I'm not quite sure that it didn't happen - and if it did, hey, why is he here and not on the couch?! And TOUCHING me, no less! The gall! And I want to cry, but I want to kick him even more than I want to cry. So instead of resorting to violence, I get up, get some water, pee, and go back to bed. Resume the spoon position. It's PMS hormones talkin', I'm sure.

Don't fuck with the hormones, people. Do not. Fuck. With the Hormones.

2 Comments:

At 8:03 PM, Blogger Robert said...

I hope it's not just a PMS thing. I have those kinds of dreams all the time. Herself never understands why I'm giving her the stink eye either.

 
At 10:55 AM, Blogger Gladys Cortez said...

Katie--

I've had the opposite, too: where I wake up all warm-n-fuzzy because of some imaginary NICE thing LJ did in a dream. (Of course, that's possibly WORSE--because then when I wake up and realize it was a dream, I'm moved by a need to kick him in the ass for NOT doing whatever-nice-thing-it-was.

There are days I believe the main function of the human mind is to make the host human as miserable as possible.

 

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