I Believe We Can Reach the Morning Light

I had a nightmare last night - a bad one. There was some crazy woman with super-natural powers who kept attacking me. I would fight her off and think she was gone and then she would come back to life from inannimate objects, like a hooded sweatshirt hanging on a chair. At one point in the dream, I saw a guy I work with through some French doors that don't normally exist in my house and I tried to scream, but the scary woman used her powers to stifle me, blind me and pull me back all at the same time. I fought her off again and then opened the door to my house to leave, only to find her standing there, blocking my way. That was when I woke up.

After I was awake, I thought I saw some lights flashing through my blinds. I pulled them back to see if there was a firetruck or an ambulance, but the alley was empty. I then realized that my eyes were causing the flashing sensation, which meant I was getting a migraine. It was three a.m. and I was still really freaked out from the dream. The girls were at their dad's house, so at least I didn't have to worry about them, but the scary woman could still materialize out of the laundry hamper or the computer moniter, so I turned on almost all the lights in my apartment.

I took my migraine pill and tried to go back to sleep. Because I'm a big fat baby, I left the light in the laundry room on all night. You can all thank me for single-handedly fucking up the ozone layer. Better yet, thank the scary lady, maybe she can use her powers for good instead of evil for a change and repair it.

I guess I could analyze my dream, but isn't that the psychological equivalent of asking people if my butt looks too big? I'm sure my crazy is sticking out for all to see right now, and I don't need anyone to describe to me what form it's taking, thank you.

The biggest consequence of my nightmare, was how much it fucked me up today. I didn't get much rest last night, so at work, I had to keep myself from falling asleep by chain-eating "fun sized" Butterfingers and thinking about Emergency! my favorite television show when I was a kid, and most importantly, Ranolph Mantooth:

I took a little nap before Coadster's choir concert tonight, and luckily I sat by my friend Ben during the show. We amused ourselves by exchanging misinterpretations of song lyrics. When they sang a spiritual, what was actually, "We are anchored" sounded like "We are naked" to Ben, and "We are wankered" to me.

Now, I will get ready for bed by putting on some brass knuckles and wrapping num-chuks around my waist, just in case I run into a certain scary bitch who needs a good ass-kicking while I'm sleeping.