Please Don’t

Does the subconscious work in cycles when we dream?  Does that question even make sense?  If not, I have a legitimate excuse.  I just rolled out of bed 5 minutes ago, and I haven’t even taken a sip of my coffee yet.  Okay, that’s two excuses.  The first isn’t good.  Considering we just rolled our clocks back an hour, I should’ve been up an hour ago, which means, I technically slept way past 11:00.

LITERALLY ME right now

The tornado dreams have started up again, and it’s very unsettling.

Last night’s dreams sequence started out visiting my parents.  I got in late, and they weren’t home from a day trip they had taken.  So I went next door and stayed at my friend’s house.  It was weird that she was still living there, but that made it fun.  We had a sleepover.  But then she had to go somewhere, and I fell asleep on the couch.

When I sleep, I must have fans running.  I literally have two things running on my side of the bed.  Silence drives me insane and makes me paranoid that the closet monster is going to come out and get me.

My friend’s house was TOO quiet, so I turned on a music channel on her television.  But the volume was wonky and it kept fluctuating.  At one point, it maxed out in volume, waking up mom & dad #2.  But Dad #2 came out with an early Christmas present, which was weird.  But he knew I was in town for a very short time, and he couldn’t wait to give it to me.

Here’s the weird part – I had somehow repressed that my parents were deceased, and was about to stay at an empty house.  So Dad #2 thought it would be nice to give me something he bought from the estate sale we had … a hat that belonged to my dad.  And then I started to cry, because Dad #2 knows how much I still miss my parents.

When morning came, I decided to head over to my parents’ house for one last look around before heading back home to my house.  But weird weather started rolling in, and people were running all over the back yard, desperately jumping into a tiny river which carried them some place safe.

Somehow I missed wherever I was supposed to jump out of the river, and wound up at a weird house a different friend was considering buying.  And she was in there.  So I had to run through the house looking for her.  I could see her in my mind, but for the life of me I could not find where in the house that place was.  It was like a secret closet, and she was hiding from the evil force causing the weather, which turned into deadly tornadoes.

As I got sucked into a worm hole, transporting me to a massive underground bunker called I-Hate-This-Goddamn-Store-MART, I prayed for my friend’s survival.  The weird part (aside from the fact that the underground bunker was a country sized retail giant) was that people didn’t believe me when I told them there was a secret closet leading to a basement, and that I could hear her screaming in my head because the house collapsed.

The store manager took me further underground to see if I could identify what might look similar to this secret closet my friend disappeared into.  And then I remembered.  The closet door was a skinny folding type of door, and the inside was sort of like a locker.

In this secret underground room, the store manager began bullying a lone corner locker away from the wall, and revealed a tunnel that lead to the basement of my friend’s new house – which was now a pile of rubble.  Thankfully she was okay, and then I was hustled by guards back to the main area of the underground store.  It was time to leave because the storm was over.

Much to my surprise, my two lifelong best friends were there waiting for me, and we made a run for the door to greet my other friend.  And once we saw that she was out and very much alive, we went to lunch.  But it couldn’t be just any lunch.  It had to be pizza and chicken wings.

We ordered enough food for a week, and went to celebrate at my parents’ house, in the basement, where there’s a bar, and everything was all set up nicely for our safe arrival.  Then my daughter showed up, and we started looking through all of the old bottles of liquor my parents had stashed away.  And since she’ll be 21 very soon, she could legally have them in her new apartment.

Right before I woke up, I poured everyone a huge glass of 50 year-old whiskey, and quickly consumed mine.  The whole storm ordeal seriously stressed me out.

And now it’s time for coffee.

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