Poetry Friday WORD for tomorrow
Sergei's lucky I didn't punch him this time.*
I had a dream last night, a very real, painful dream, that Sergei was seeing a girl on the side, a 17-year old blonde high-schooler named Beth, who would hide in his closet and come out when I wasn't in the room. All this came out while we were hosting a party for a group of comic book artists. Sergei made me keep quiet. I wanted to scream.
Then the thump of the morning paper hit our front door and I woke up, to find my sweet husband in bed naked next to me. Well, ain't that a kick in the ass. For half a second, I wanted to slap him, but realized it was MY dream, and he was just the innocent, sexy bystander. So I had THAT to deal with this morning. I hatehateHATE that my dreams are getting more and more real as time goes on. Hate. It. Is it hormones? A cumulation of fears set in motion by everything I read in magazines and see on the boob tube and hear from well-meaning, but totally misguided, friends and acquaintances?
Meh.
The Poetry Friday Word for tomorrow is "FEAR". Use it however you like...show us your belly if you've been afraid to. Go up and chat with that cute guy at the gym and tell us what happened. Try your hand at Grandma's recipe for Double-Triple-Heart-Attack-Chocolate-Chip-Cookies. Write something...draw something...speak something. Go wid it.
(*I did punch him once, after I dreamed that he was enjoying dalliances with some skeezy ho. It wasn't a hard punch. It was reflexive.)
posted by Mona Buonanotte @ 7:08 AM
8 comments
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8 Comments:
Oh gawd I have that same dream - with minor detail changes - too! I hate it. I hate waking up drained from so much emotional upheaval. One time I woke up to him asking me what the hell was wrong with me. Apparently I had spent a good few minutes chastising him harshly for being a jerk. In my sleep. Poor husband.
Beth is pretty cute though.
J.
Of course, she conveniently forgets the phase she went through where she kept trying to gouge out my eyes in her sleep.
Good times, good times.
I feel like I need to stand p for Sergei. I woke up one morning at five AM, after my better half swiftly punched me in the back of the head. I was dreaming about playing basketball.
I've been having really vivid dreams lately too. I wake up at about 4 am -- and it takes me awhile to convince myself that it was just a dream.
Is this some new stage of life?
Oy! My heart goes out to Sergei. Thank you for the Friday word, I managed to do something this time...finally. :)
My wife always lets me know when she's had one of those dreams and she lets me know how happy I should be to remain unpummelled by the baseball bat, because she was just about to clobber me. I think she's warning me that, one day, she might not be able to stop herself in time (or, she's warning me that that's what she'll tell the cops).
I hope Sergei enjoys the fear factor of sleeping with you. I hate getting punished for my wife's dreams but I totally understand it. She's probably invading some fantasy of mine while I'm not looking.
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