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 preteen strangers to me at an Easter parade where deceased friends kept stopping to say hello. I didn’t awake until the zombie horde forced a semi off a bridge next to where I was drinking coffee. I asked my husband, Doo, what he thought these visions meant, and he responded with a short monologue ala 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 approaching. 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 girl to do? Ignore parenting, wife-ing, teaching, cleaning, managing, shopping, sudoku-ing, exercising, planning, living altogether?

I’m certain my latest intake of Thai food and psychological thrillers aren’t helping, but in my defense, have you watched “The Menu” yet? Wonderfully disturbing. So, I’ll just have to deal with the crazy dreams and hope life settles soon.

Peace out.