Never trust a writer who does not drink. The one you want to read, has a shot glass in one hand and a shot gun in the other.
That was a failed attempt on my part to kill my writers block, I have practically changed my whole blog theme in the hope that something will spark and voila I’ll be back. I don’t think most people get how frustrating writers block is, I mean I could cry right now just thinking of how badly I want to write and I can’t.
It’s almost like denying a junkie his fix.
Anyway, yesterday I had this crazy dream that I’ve been thinking about all day. I mean it’s one of those dreams you have and you wake up questioning every decision you’ve made. I don’t know if I can classify it as a nightmare but it was close, very close! It combined two of my life’s greatest fears. Chills.
I went to bed at around 12 maybe and it took me a while to toss and turn and toss and turn and wake up, go outside, look at the stars, realize that was stupid because it was really cold and then come back and sleep. So the dream starts out really great, I’m in the house I grew up in and nothing has changed. I’m sitting on my trouble chair and watching TV. My trouble chair was the chair my dad would make me sit in when he was given me lectures about this and that which happened pretty much everyday. I don’t consider myself a difficult child but considering my father would sit me there at 10 pm and we’d end up sleeping at 1 am, I guess I was okay. Model child.
Anyway, I’m sitting on my trouble chair and then this really huge guy gets in. I don’t quite remember his face but I remember that he was really muscular big. Body builder type. He bends over and I kiss him. Smirk!!! He goes into what used to be my parents bedroom and while later this two kids show up. A boy and a girl around 5 or so. Okay.
I get up and that’s when I realize that I am pregnant. Huge baby bump and boobs that would supply a small country with milk. The kids must be my children because they call me mummy before heading out to my bedroom. My parents had built a small bathroom and loo in both our bedrooms so that they would be en-suite and no one had to share. I hear water running and I head over to my bedroom- sasa the one I apparently shared with this body building guy. Let’s call him Max. I suppose he was my husband. I don’t know how I fell for all that muscle, I like them chubby. Ha!
Next thing I remember is me in the sitting room of the house, with a new born, the two kids, Max and my younger sister Ruthy. My sister had grown taller which is kind of annoying because now with her tall height, basketball skills and extrovert personality, she gets a lot of attention. I think we are literally in her shadow. Ha! Anyway she is talking to Max about something and I’m breastfeeding.
Ruthy leaves and now its just what I suppose is my family. Things seem to be going on great but before long there is trouble in paradise. Max and I are fighting a lot, this new baby is crying a lot, the other two are just downright clingy and spoilt! I wonder if I raised them because then I shouldn’t be allowed to have kids. Married life is hard! Sigh!
Sometimes when Max and I fought, it would literally be one of those movie fight sex scenes. I may have had sex on a laundry machine with my husband in my dream! Ha! Does it count as fornication if I was married in my dream and single in my real life? I’ve been thinking about that a lot and I ended up deciding it’s a Zebra. It’s both black and white. It has both purity and sin in it.
Anyway, one time I’m coming from my children’s room and I see my mom in a white and red dress, my dad, both my sisters and Max sleeping on the couches. Even for me, that was really really weird. And they looked like they were like deeply asleep.
When I’m about to wake them up because it’s freakish, I hear some annoying sound and I begin to wake up. I realize it must be my roommate and her songs again! I wake up and try not to act pissed because who plays songs that sound like kiringiringiringi at 6 am in the morning? You know those Catholic choir songs that make you want to eat glass. How I haven’t pulled a Hannah Baker at this point is beyond me.
Anyway, I try to sleep again obviously but I can’t so I laze around in bed thinking about how much Tyga weighs right now. All he does is eat and sleep and demand attention. I guess the lazy gene passed on to the boy. Ha! Anyway, the weird thing on top of the weird dream is that I had an almost similar dream the night before last.
I wasn’t married though and I did not have children but I was with a guy and we were good, we were really good. Then we started having this crazy fights and I kicked him out of my house- that part was kind of fun. I’ve always wanted to throw a man out of my house and I know I’d be really dramatic about it because I mean, how fun is that?
I tried making sense of last night’s dream because the previous one is obviously inevitable but I don’t want to end up married to a body builder, living in my parent’s house and having three children! I mean how crazy is it that one day, I may find a guy and decide that yeah, I’ll tolerate the face of you each morning and I will not go grocery shopping in any other stores because your store has everything I need. Even if I hate the eggplant you’re selling, I will not shop elsewhere. Till death do us part. I’ll kill you in your sleep and go shopping afterwards. Don’t marry me!
I mean besides my best friend, I don’t think Ill be attending any other weddings because the kind of people that I really know, wouldn’t last two days in a commitment that serious! But who knows? At 25, instead of globe trotting, I could be a stay at home mom with Junior, Senior and Mary! Maybe my dreams are trying to tell me something. Or maybe I’ve been spending too much time in court listening to marital dispute cases and writing about them.
I’m going to go with the second one because its the one that doesn’t make me want to step into moving traffic and go to the good place.