bryan and i went to a funeral. i didn't know the person, but we were there anyways. the funeral was held at a hotel, which we were also staying at. the mourners were all black people, dressed in bright clothes & weird hats, like they wear when they go to one of those gospel services. after the service, we went to our room, only to discover that the funeral people (that's their official title) had put the coffin in our room, and that we had to stay with it overnight. of course, i never questioned WHY, because that would be logical, and clearly logic is fleeting at this point. so we try and go to sleep, but i can't possibly sleep with a dead body in the room. but, as my luck would have it, the dead body becomes alive and starts chasing me. it's all charred and crusty, like this person died in a fire. but i don't really give a sh*t how they died, because what matters is that it's after me. i leave the hotel, but it follows. and right when it's about to grab me, i tell myself to wake the f**k up.
jersey's still in her bed, bryan's snoring next to me, it's only 12:30 am. good, i can still get 4 hours of good sleep in.
have a lot of stuff to do at work tomorrow. have to put together that report, get my boss those maps he asked for, meet up with Paris and go shopping...
damnit! so close. oh good, it's only 12:45. geez it's hot in here. let me check the a/c and see what bryan has cranked it up to. 'cause all that matters is that he is comfortable. God forbid he be a little chilly. who cares if Sarah is sweating like a fat pig?
ok, i have GOT to get some sleep. don't think about work, don't think about work, don't think about work...
"i'm going out tonight. wu's hosting a benefit at the museum. you weren't invited." gee thanks. ok, guess i'll sit around the house and hang out with the dog. he leaves. night falls, i look out the window. there's a man standing on the street watching my house. he's wearing a mask, a white, faceless one like in the eyes wide shut movie. i shut the windows and start closing the blinds, as he starts walking towards my house. he takes his mask off. i know him but i don't know him. but i do know he's going to kill me. i turn the lights off, set the alarm, and grab my cell phone. i call bryan. he answers, and i beg him to please leave the benefit and come home. there's a strange man stalking me. he laughs and hangs up on me. since i have to take this into my own hands (a woman's work is never done), i wake up jersey, and run to the bedside table. i grab my gun (i remember in real life me and fe were discussing going to a shooting range, too bad we never did) and try to load it. i can't. why am i moving so slow? i turn around, and he reaches up and grabs me. but wait! i have a knife in my back pocket (even in my dreams i'm well-prepared) and i reach behind me to get it. i grab him and stab him with it. i keep stabbing, but keep missing his heart. i'm only slowing him down, and he keeps going. he grabs another knife (he's smarter than me, apparently) and just as he's about to stab me - wake up!
shit! how am i awake AGAIN? it's already 3:00. that means only 1.5 hours of good, solid sleep can be had. and how can i sleep well when it's hotter than a witch's tit in a brass bra? jersey's still in her bed (it's a miracle), and bryan is still sleeping like he hasn't slept in days. which is how he always sleeps. i envy him.
ok, i can do this. just lay still and think about nothing. work, Dallas, scrapbooking, sleep, laundry, work, email, bills, Bryan, mom & dad, sleep, work, Ranch, drinking, sleep, Jersey, Chevy, sleep, work, sleep, Bryan, sleep, sleep, sleep...
this is a strange room. square, all-white, with bleacher seats on either side. i am surrounded by friends on one side, and sitting on the other side are aliens. but not aliens like freaky creatures, just beings that i know aren't human, and must be destroyed. but how? i realize i (and my friends) are armed with squirt guns filled with orange juice. apparently OJ is what will kill these things. this sounds like it was written by a 5-year old. a clock starts counting down. it hits zero, and we all start shooting. but wait! the aliens are armed too! also with squirt guns, but way better ones. like super-soakers with double-barrels. and they're filled with some other kind of juice. maybe grapefruit? must be, since that's what i drank before i went to bed. and since this is the land of nothing-makes-sense, the grapefruit juice starts tearing holes in our skin. i can see my flesh melting away and my veins and bones are exposed. must. shoot. faster. if i don't wake up like NOW, i'm going to die.
it's freakin' 4:25. i am supposed to get up in 5 minutes. are you kidding me? in the past 7 hours, i have escaped the wrath of a burn victim, stabbed a man 26 times while my husband abandoned me, fought in an intergallatic war, all while sweating off 6 lbs of water weight, and you expect me to get up and go work out?
i don't think so.
i am not kidding you, that was my night last night, and i'm sure i left out a few parts. and bryan wonders why i'm having a hard time getting up in the mornings.