Woke Up This Morning

Twelve hours should be plenty of time to recharge the batteries, even during a stressful week. Dreams may be the mind's way of entertaining you or processing information and images. It's like your brain needs to catch up on some work, so it does a little overtime. Apparently mine was very far behind and had to pull an all-nighter. Can't say I blame it; there's a lot going on (again) and too many decisions to make. But these feature-film length sequences did nothing to ease my nerves:

A bathrobe-clad Tom Arnold talking about molesting one of my younger employees and flashing his goods at me while buying my car because I can't afford to keep it.

My mother buying a dilapidated house, with half-finished bathrooms and leaking ceilings. She buys groceries but when she sets the bags down, the floor caves in. I try to help her, but have to get ready for work. There's no working shower, only a tub, but bats keep trying to attack.

Working with my Aunt and Grandma at a factory where toothless women sit at long picnic tables eating homemade stew and biscuits and talk about how long it's been since they've had their hair set at the beauty parlor.

Having sex with a guy, who gets his first and then keeps making lame excuses why we have to hurry up and get dressed.

Going to work and getting farther and farther behind in tasks as various bosses come by and make me feel bad, scolding me in front of employees.

No wonder I'm so tired. All I want to do is take a nap.

But I won't. I'm too afraid.