Opinion: Sweet dreams aren’t made of this

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I don’t know what is going on inside my head lately. I had a dream last night that went from my grappling with a personal case of head lice while babysitting a couple of pre-teen strangers to me at a parade where deceased friends and family were stopping to say hello.

I didn’t awake until the zombie horde forced a semi off a bridge next to where I was standing. I asked my husband Doo what he thought these visions meant and he responded with a short monologue of Sigmund Freud emphatically telling him to “Get out. NOW.” Hilarious.

Doo also reminded me that I had left a bathroom drawer open, wide enough so that when he stumbled in this morning, he clocked his left thigh so hard he now has a noticeable bruise. I vaguely recall rummaging for Advil around 4 a.m. while peering through a window to determine if a tornado was afoot. I guess the screaming wind and the dead-people visits distracted me from closing up shop, so to speak.

All this is to say that clearly I have too much on my plate, at least subconsciously. As I type, I am mentally listing today’s “chores” along with work and family “stuff” that needs to be addressed in the near future. But what’s a mom to do? Ignore parenting, wife-ing, teaching, cleaning, managing, shopping, disciplining, exercising, planning, living altogether?

I’m certain the spicy food and the devil/vampire shows aren’t helping, but in my defense, have you watched “Lucifer” yet? Terrible, but oddly alluring. So, I’ll just have to deal with the crazy dreams and hope life settles soon.

Peace out.

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