Saturday, February 18, 2012

Dreams can go eat it. And by it, I mean, the biggest of dicks.

Why do dreams always kick you hard in the junk, even though you are fully aware that they are in fact, just dreams?

Stupid bastard dreams.

As if, I don't already feel enough like a failure at career choice life. 

I decided to take a nap when Matt headed out to band practice and the squishing of the balls [that I don't have, but somehow squishing of the vagina just isn't as humorous and sounds a little (lot?) gross] began. This dream -- in all its bastard soul crushing glory -- decided that not only was I a terrible mother and my kids hate me but also a pierced tattooed weirdo that did not deserve a job. [Even as a cab driver. Don't ask me where that came from because I have only ridden in a cab once, technically twice if you count the ride back to the original area of departure.] There were other things in this series of dreams that I can only faintly remember but they all led to a major lets facepunch Valarie as hard as we can and make her wake up feeling like a massive pile of turtle poo. [Dog poo is < Turtle poo. Just sayin'.] 

So after laying there for a few minutes, I let all the dream BS go and went and took a shower. At least, I know I am good at taking a shower. 

And now, I might go un-pack some stuff. Which, is going to end up as the following: Walk downstairs, look towards garage, grab some tea, go sit on the couch and run off the little recorder playing pain in my ass so that I can watch TV or read more of the book I am reading while I wait for Matt to get home so that I can annoy him non-stop and continue in this silly-feeling-like-a-teenager-bliss-thing that is going on.

Oh -- the two dresses that I ordered from ModCloth came in the mail today as well. I only like how one of them look on me, so most likely, I will be returning the other and getting another like the one that I like, in a different color.

1 comment:

PHunkyPuHnk said...

I consistently have the worst dreams ever. Right now I am going through a series (basically every night for two weeks that I can remember my dreams) where some murdering psychopath is trying to murder me. Also, there are random celebrity appearance, like Oprah and Ellen (two separate dreams). Yeah, dreams are generally dicks.