Numbered, For Your Reading Ease, One Through Four

  1. I woke one recent morning in a flat panic that I’d killed someone I’m quite fond of accidentally through my own idiocy. Thank you, dreams! Thank you very much. So lovely. In this dream, I was living back on Stanford campus, riding a pink beach cruiser with a ridiculously high set of handlebars. Every time I reached up to try to steer with them, they pushed up higher, flying out of my hands. When I got back to Haus Mitt, where I apparently lived in this dream, I discovered firstly, that a huge gaggle of sorority girls were moving in and displacing me, and secondly, that I was going to need to do some late-night spackling, for no apparent reason at all. That’s when everything kind of collapsed in a blur, and suddenly I was messing everything up, and there was a collapse to the floor in grey sweaty badness, and I couldn’t get my fingers to dial 911, and it was terrible. It was one of those dreams that leaves you needing to call people, making sure it didn’t really happen. Urrrrgh.
  2. These last few weeks have felt like a blur, but not flown by in a blur. No, oh no, this is the dreaded slow blur–the kind that feels like it’s taking forever while it’s happening, and then leaves you feeling like you haven’t done NEARLY enough to possibly fill all those hours.
  3. I think I finally have my life sort of kind of figured out. At least I have enough of a plan that I’ve stopped having totally ridiculous anxiety dreams. In the last three weeks, besides my accidental homicide, I’ve also dreamed that I almost got married and then stood the dude up at the altar, causing him to collapse in distress and have to be carted off to the hospital by the paramedics, that I lost my car and never found it again, that I was on the run from renegade librarians, that I had a huge group interview in which I was publicly shamed for improperly checking out books from the library, and that my childhood bedroom literally fell off of the rest of my house with me still in it, like a gingerbread house that’s gotten too damp and started to sort of collapse slowly into itself of its own accord.
  4. All of my joints inexplicably ache. The internet, in combination with a few bug bites, have convinced me that I have Lyme disease. Stay tuned. Tomorrow, I will be shamefacedly waving it off as mosquitoes and sleep-stretching.

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