I wish this story was a lie, or at least an embellishment of the truth. But, sadly, it is not. This is what my life has really come to. Two nights about I had two separate and terrifying dreams. In the first one I found out I was pregnant. There is no better way to ruin your life than with a pregnancy. Sorry - if you have a family and children whom you care for and love, maybe you don't see it this way. When you are barely hanging on taking care of your dog and yourself, a baby is never a cause for celebration. I woke up in tears wondering why such an awful thing had to happen to me. I settled down and realized it was just a dream.
Then came my next nightmare. A woman, who I actually know from our building, we've never spoken, but I've seen her around, had jumped off the building and I watched her bang into different balconies and finally fell onto ours instead of the ground. I ran to call 9-1-1 because even in my dreams I am not brave enough, or a good enough person, to try and really save someone. But calling for help, I'm your gal! So while I was dialing, she got up and crawled to the edge of the balcony and jumped again. Jesus Christ. I woke up and did not go back to sleep. I decided that was a sign I should get up for the day instead of tempting my brain to come up with some other horror story.
For the last two days I have been busily pondering what my subconscious is trying to tell me - although I think it is screaming "GET A JOB!!!!!". I can only assume the baby dream was my complete inability to care for my future and a lack of prepardness for the real world. The balcony jumping, although I'm not an expert in dream reading, I am pretty sure represents my sanity and it's relentless pursuit of trying to escape me (I gather this because the woman in question has the most awful sense of style, no seriously, awful, coming from someone who regularly wears sweatpants from Walmart little boy's section that only cost $6 at least half a decade ago). Well excuse me, soundness of mind, but you haven't gotten away that quickly or easily.
With all of this in mind, I flipped through the paper to my horoscope, and I kid you not, this is what it said,
"Aries (March 21 - April 19)
If a two-year-old can have a meltdown over the number of apple slices on her plate and a teenage breakup can usher in an entire year of emo angst, then of course you get to wallow in your own misery this week. But, Aries, you'll have to pull yourself together during the workday and self-medicate with a martini or two in the evening, like a grown up."
I glanced around suspiciously at the other people on the subway, wondering if somehow they knew that this silly paper had accurately portrayed my entire life in just two sentences. I just don't know what to make of this. It spurred me into action and I came home and squeezed into my jeans which I haven't been able to get on since June (hence the aforementioned sweatpants...) and I put on a real shirt, not my stained Gap sweater. Unfortunately that is where my action ended and the only other thing I could come up with was to blog about it all.... yikes!
Then came my next nightmare. A woman, who I actually know from our building, we've never spoken, but I've seen her around, had jumped off the building and I watched her bang into different balconies and finally fell onto ours instead of the ground. I ran to call 9-1-1 because even in my dreams I am not brave enough, or a good enough person, to try and really save someone. But calling for help, I'm your gal! So while I was dialing, she got up and crawled to the edge of the balcony and jumped again. Jesus Christ. I woke up and did not go back to sleep. I decided that was a sign I should get up for the day instead of tempting my brain to come up with some other horror story.
For the last two days I have been busily pondering what my subconscious is trying to tell me - although I think it is screaming "GET A JOB!!!!!". I can only assume the baby dream was my complete inability to care for my future and a lack of prepardness for the real world. The balcony jumping, although I'm not an expert in dream reading, I am pretty sure represents my sanity and it's relentless pursuit of trying to escape me (I gather this because the woman in question has the most awful sense of style, no seriously, awful, coming from someone who regularly wears sweatpants from Walmart little boy's section that only cost $6 at least half a decade ago). Well excuse me, soundness of mind, but you haven't gotten away that quickly or easily.
With all of this in mind, I flipped through the paper to my horoscope, and I kid you not, this is what it said,
"Aries (March 21 - April 19)
If a two-year-old can have a meltdown over the number of apple slices on her plate and a teenage breakup can usher in an entire year of emo angst, then of course you get to wallow in your own misery this week. But, Aries, you'll have to pull yourself together during the workday and self-medicate with a martini or two in the evening, like a grown up."
I glanced around suspiciously at the other people on the subway, wondering if somehow they knew that this silly paper had accurately portrayed my entire life in just two sentences. I just don't know what to make of this. It spurred me into action and I came home and squeezed into my jeans which I haven't been able to get on since June (hence the aforementioned sweatpants...) and I put on a real shirt, not my stained Gap sweater. Unfortunately that is where my action ended and the only other thing I could come up with was to blog about it all.... yikes!
No comments:
Post a Comment