Oh, I get it. It's only a blog if you, well, post every so often.
Well, I've been tired. Every night I go to bed (too late, yes, but still) expecting some form of sleep to occur. I do fall asleep eventually. Then I have these long involved dreams, and in the morning I don't feel the least bit rested.
Last night, for example:
I was in grad school, writing a combination novel/thesis which I had to submit to Ben Affleck and Matt Damon. I knew it was incomplete and utter crap, but I was hoping they couldn't tell because, well, they're actors, even if smart ones. Which isn't to dis actors, just that it wasn't a thesis in acting.
Then I was riding on the back of a motorcycle, being driven to a party by a man I don't know, but who is kind and stops when I am feeling too dizzy and scared to continue. After a rest I get past my fear of riding on the bike, and we go on. We ride past a deli, outside of which men on ladders are putting up giant letters to spell "HOUSTON," but they're spelling it wrong.
We get to the party, which is hosted by a guy who makes fancy, whimsical signs out of scrap wood. My college roommate is there, doing some sort of project with glitter glue. She's looking for a color called Emerald Square. I sort through dozens of shades of green... how 'bout Emerald Triangle? Moss? Olivine?... there seems always to be one more tube of green, but I can't find the only one she needs.
Still at this gathering of kooky artist types, I somehow agree to or get suckered into helping someone's son get to the school bus every morning. It soon becomes clear that I also have to locate, dress, and feed him every time, and he's always lost in some irresponsible household mayhem. Also there are always cars blocking his family's driveway at crazy angles.
And with that, I wake.
So after all that subconscious anxiety plays out in various scenarios -- last nights' at least lacked wild animals or serial killers -- I just feel weird in the mornings these days.
My kingdom for a couple nights' dreamless slumber.