2007-12-02 - 10:19 a.m.

SILENCE IS GOLDEN (and short-lived)

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, silence. Ain't it great? Nothing but the hum of my tower, the scritch of the cat's tongue on his fur and the sound of snaps hitting the inside of the dryer as the jeans turn. (note to cat: your breath is stinky, dude. Are you really more clean than before?) Yes, it's Sunday morning and the kids are gone to church with my folks. I have to work, manning a remote from the station at noon, so I won't get the dynamic duo back until well after 2pm. No fighting, no whining, no demands until after two. Joy to the world!

Last night I had a tedious dream. At first, it seemed like it was going to be great, as I was on a date with Owen Wilson and he was flirty and funny and sweet and giving off very clear "let's get naked" vibes. Yes, I like Owen, even though his nose looks like a penith.
I was not taking any initiative in this dream...I was waiting for Owen to make it happen, so to speak, (I'm terribly out of practice, even in my sleep) and somehow in there, he decided that before he made the move, we should jump on the bed. Now here's where the dream takes a disappointing turn:

In the next moment, I found myself looking at the subject of a past relationship, whom Owen had turned into. He was often petulant and was easily insulted, and in this dream, Owen turned into him as he clamored off the bed, limping, claiming I had stepped on his foot. Yes, stepped on his foot. He was rubbing it and looking plaintive as he always did and I thought to myself, PANSYYYYYYYYYYYASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

Then I said, "Well, since I've crippled you, I think we might just oughta wind this up and go home." I wasn't going to grovel, or fuss over his stupid foot. I wasn't gonna try to make it better in any way whatsoever. In fact, if I'd said what I was really thinking, I'd have said, "Well, since you're not Owen Wilson, and you ARE whiny-sack-of-feeeeeeeeeeeelings-boy, I want to get away from you as soon as is humanly possible." It was then that I realized we were HOURS from home....like 5 hours...Houston-trip-hours...and that I'd have to listen to him simper the entire way.

NIGHTMARE. That's all there is to it.

Now I'm awake and the kids are gone, so I'm going to enjoy my brief solitude and not waste a moment of it, not even to lament, yet again, that I cannot even get a good time in my mother fucking SLEEP.

:) and with that, I'm gonna go make tea. Have a peaceful, relaxing Sunday, ya heard?

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