I'm not quite sure how to express the state of my life at the moment, except to say that even my dreams are boring, and yet fraught with anxiety. I've had the same dream twice this week; I've lost my purse, and can't remember where I left it. I walk through room after room after room in this immense, never-ending house, going, Where could it be? I could have sworn I left it right here...I'm not entirely sure what this means. All I know is I have more than enough stress during my waking hours, and it would be nice to be able to relax for a bit, at least while I'm asleep. I mean, really, subconscious, would a sex dream or two be too much to ask?
Last night's dream at least took a semi-interesting turn. While I was walking through the endless rooms wringing my hands and fretting over my lost purse, I ran into Johnny Damon, and we chatted a bit. In my dream he was still with the Red Sox, and he seemed a bit taken with me. He even wrote me out a note that would allow me to get into practice to see him. And, I mean, I don't even really like Johnny Damon, don't tend to go for the dumb jock type, but I mean, I was still flattered. Then I remembered that in real life, Johnny Damon is married, so I knew then that I was dreaming. Because in my dream world, the Red Sox line-up is still composed of members of the original 2004 World Championship team, and major league baseball players are all faithful to their wives.
Then I woke up and realized that Johnny Damon is with the Yankees, and baseball season is long over, but at least I know exactly where my purse is. The End.
And now, that's it. That's all you're getting from me until after I've finished my paper. And this time I mean it!