It Was An Accident!

Dreams about car accidents aren’t funny.  At all.  I freak out every single time, waking up drenched in sweat.  But last nights dreams were exceptionally sweat inducing.  You’ll find out why.

Even though it has taken half of the day to finally sit down for this entry, it doesn’t mean my brain is clear of last night’s dreams.  They weren’t horribly whacked, but strange enough to accurately recall them.

First, I was someplace looking for a job, or working a current job, with hopes of a promotion – where my husband works.

The building was sort of set up like a school, with huge offices and rows of long desks.  I had to take a test in order to receive this promotion.  But at the same time, the office manager plopped one of my old school notebooks and a stack of paperwork on the desk.  All of it had to be completed, including the test.  Great.  I’m NOT a good test taker.

After all was said and done, the manager told me to write a list in my notebook.  She was sending me to the store for some office supplies whilst I waited for my promotion answer.  Except the list was not office supplies.  It was vitamins, fruit, a can of hairspray, and some popcorn.

But on the way to the store, I had to stop at the doctor’s office for a prescription, because now I was coming down with some weird virus, and I had to hurry before I wound up in the hospital because it kills everyone in three days.

After the doctor sent me on my way with a bottle of God knows what, I started driving to the store.  At the store, one of my friends was working in the pharmacy, which was in the middle of the regular store.  There was also a small arcade and a mini restaurant.

So many things caught my eye, but I couldn’t find what was on my list.  I took my meds, and said to my friend “I’ll be right back.  I’m going to find help”.  But going for help meant hopping back in my car.  Then the roads were icy, and it was getting dark.  And of course my car wasn’t doing what I wanted it to, and I wound up in a huge ditch, full of cuts and broken bones.

Once an ambulance came and got me, it turns out there was a small trauma center close by – also inside the store.

Then the store manager found out where I worked, and he called my boss, who ordered a drug test STAT!  NOOOOOO!!! I repeatedly screamed at everyone when the results came back, insisting I had an earlier doctor’s appointment, and they gave me some weird medicine so I wouldn’t die.  It turned out to be Percocet, and that’s why my car was misbehaving.  And then I got fired over the phone.

IRL, I hate Percocet, or any other opiate pain killers that make me feel like an alien.  I’ll opt for pain, thanks.

Then my dad was on the way to pick me up to go home.  Great.  I had to face my mom.  Can’t wait to be grounded forever.

But Mom wasn’t there right away.  It was just me and Dad, and we sat at the kitchen table eating toast and drinking beer whilst we looked through my notebook, which was filled with all kinds of weird rhyming poetry, odd doodles, and confessions!

After my dad drilled me about who the guys were I was writing about, I quickly made like a tree, and went outside for a bit to pick some flowers to butter up Mom.  But when I got back inside, she was suddenly in the kitchen, cooking like a madwomen.  I guess we were going to have company, because there was food everywhere.  Not an inch to spare.

Then, like typical Mom, she lifted something wrong, and hurt her back.  When I touched her back to see if she was alright, she turned on me with a face full of tears.  “Did you really mean all those things you said about me?  Was I really that horrible of a mother to you?”  I think she got a hold of my notebook!

But … b … b … but … BUT….

And in the middle of all of the above, I stopped along the way to buy glitter nail polish, which I never use because I have no nails to speak of.


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