(Wendy lies down on couch.)
*NOTE: THE FOLLOWING IS A DREAM*
Okay, so I was the single mother of this baby with Downs Syndrome and I took too many sleeping pills one night (after three days of not sleeping) but whether I was trying to kill myself or not... I didn't know. I tend to think that I wasn't... but I was so stressed out and sleep-deprived even I didn't know. I was rushed to the hospital where they were keeping me for observation and this guy I'd been dating was watching my baby... because he was this sensible and boring guy that I could trust completely. He was pressuring me to get engaged, but I could see this life ahead of me with this boring sensible guy and we didn't love each other, but it made sense. He could help me take care of my child... and I could get some sleep.
*enter the weirdness*
So, one of the orderlies has been stopping by late at night and talking to me. He'd talk to me until I fell asleep, and I was actually getting sleep... thanks to this guy. He's really nice and doesn't treat me like I'm an awful person for wanting out of this life I have. I keep thinking, "if only someone like this wanted me... I could get through these days."
One day, just before I'm about to be released, this orderly walks in and locks the door and barricades them and says he's been sent to kill me and he's an assassin. (I had some strange job where I was a courier of papers... and I'd seen something that I'd thought was innocuous, but wasn't... not at all.) Instead of freaking out, I point out that I'm under observation, and they have cameras in my room so they know what is going on.
He says, "Yeah, I know that." Then, he pulls out this note... and it's part way between a will and a suicide note from me. "I have this thing I do... with all my hits. I get to know them, so I can write their note."
So, I read this note... and it's beautiful... and instead of being a suicide note it talks about everything I have to live for and it talks about all my favorite things and even some things I had no idea we'd spoken of. I just started bawling as I'm reading this, and I said, "How did you know this about me?"
He just shrugs it off while saying, "I got to KNOW you. I think I know you better than you know yourself." He gives me this look... like in another place and another time... we might have had something... that kind of a look.
Outside the door, I can hear people scrambling and this guy I'm dating is outside, pounding on the door, asking if I'm okay. Only... none of it matters as I'm staring at this hitman and holding this note. It's like one of those moments of unreality where you think maybe you were born in the wrong time or wrong place and maybe your destiny was meant to be different.
Suddenly, this door nearby opens. This door was to what I assumed was a storage closet, but apparently it had an outside door to it also, and this other orderly walks in pushing tray, totally oblivious to what is going on. The hitman just turns and walks out that door without another word.
I'm left clutching this "note" and thinking "what? No... wait... what?"
One of the other doors crashes in, and they all rush into the room, looking around for this other guy and grab the poor orderly who'd just used this back door. This guy I'm dating has my daughter with him and runs up and hugs me, saying, "Thank goodness! I don't know what I'd do with your daughter without you."
In the background, I can hear gunfire... and one of the security guys in the room says to me, "That guy will never bother you again." And he takes the note out of my hand, saying that it's evidence.
Then, my daughter in the dream throws up... all over me...
*The part of the day in which we play amateur Freudian.*
My daughter spewed last night... so I get that part of it. I even get the Downs Syndrome part of it, believe it or not. I turn 35 in just three months and it's wigging me out. I never thought I'd only have 2 children... and, truth to tell, I want more kids, but it's not just my choice. But 35 is the age where you start being higher risk for pregnancies and we already have 2 kids with Autism. So, yes, I can probably expect more strange dreams like this one and this birthday should be a just a barrel full of monkeys.
As an aside, I manage to make friends with people that are my own age without realizing it... so I have quite a few friends that are turning 35 this year and my friend yesterday announced, "Can you believe we're all turning 35 this year??? Can you believe that??? That's only like five years from 40!!!" I wanted to shake her and tell her I'd decided to be 34 for another year despite it being an even number.
*back to the dream*
On the other hand, I'm married to a man I love... who can be rather sensible but isn't boring. In fact, the hitman had some of the qualities of my husband whereas this would-be fiancé didn't really. Really, my husband acts a lot more like the hitman... err... besides the whole "hitman" thing. No, my husband isn't a professional killer... for the record.
Anyway, the whole thing was longer and deeper than most of my dreams are. I woke up thinking... that would make a great story... but there is no way I'm going to write it. There are dark corners of the human psyche that I don't care to really muck around in.
So, there you go... weird dreams and deeply bent psychosis. I woke up... and thought it was the weirdest thing ever... and then went back to sleep... and starting cleaning up my previous imaginary daughter's puke in the latest dream. *head slap* I think the universe hates me. This baby managed to spew all over and hit keyboards and everything and it was just... blech... everywhere and it was chunky like oatmeal. *shudders* It made the hitman dream look pretty darn good... and how often do you say that?
So, I don't know why I blogged on this other than to let you know that your dream about dancing with the President while dressed as a platypus has nothing on my weird crap... so there.
