Can We Go Back to March/April?

Last night’s dreams were mainly about bees.  It wasn’t fun, because every time I tried to wake myself up, I’d go right back into bee dreams.

I was at my parents’ house, doing their dishes.  My dad was in my room fixing my window – in my old room, which was converted into an office when I took over my brothers’ room when I was 15.

As I was doing the dishes, one of those horrifying European hornets was working its way into the house through a tiny slit between the window screens above the sink.  After throwing a dish at it, I ran down the hall to get my dad, who was now busy spraying for regular bees.

I didn’t care about the regular bees, I wanted my daddy to kill this mutant hornet, because it was coming for me!  “Dad… Daaaaad.  DADDDYYYY!!!”  But it was too late.  The f*cker came around to the other side of the house, and started to dive-bomb me, going after my head.  And when it made its way behind my ear, I screamed myself awake.

But then it was time for my son to go to school.  By this time I was completely shot and exhausted from my dreams about bees all damn night!  I needed more sleep, for f*ck sake.  And I got some.

Except now I was in some weird resort, trying to find the right room, which could only be found via a private elevator.  And that required a key from one of the staff.  Well, WTF?  I’m a guest here, God damnit!

But that’s okay, because I had just gotten through winning enough money to live comfortably for a few years.  Yep, there was a casino.  And right before I returned to my room, I ordered fish fry for everyone.

But I was on a f*cking diet, and wasn’t allowed to eat the damn fish fry, or the lovely fresh cut fried potatoes that came with it.  NOPE!  My wonderful mother took the liberty of buying me a nasty tuna salad.

Meanwhile, aunts, uncles, brothers, etc., all showed up to enjoy those wonderful fish fries in front of me.  THANKS, fam.  I love you too.

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