On the Sly

I'm taking a bit of a break right now because I'm so tired that I'm useless. And I keep snapping at people. And, plus, some rest is a good idea because I need to pick my brother up from the airport at 11:00 tonight (LAX is about a forty minute drive away). Also, by the time I get back, I'll probably be too tired to blog. The big news is that my mom was just informed that she's getting released from the hospital later this afternoon. She's a bit surprised--i.e. not ready. And I'm not quite sure of what to expect because we were never really told anything definitive about anything. So, maybe I too am a bit surprised--i.e. not ready.

So how's about I slip into denial mode and share a bit of my dreamscape from the other night?

Part of it involved Sylvester Stallone, of all people. I NEVER think about Stallone. I've seen the Rocky films, though never Rambo. I don't find him the least bit attractive. But in my dream, we were married (????) and we were madly in love with each other (?????).

We were on the phone. I was at home (our very, VERY big home with walnut cabinets and wainscoting), wearing a blue suit with my hair all up. And he was at work (but I don't think on the set ... I don't think he was even really an actor in the dream). And we were talking about how I would be going out of town and how he would be coming home soon to say goodbye and I think we were talking dirty to each other (!!!!!). I tend to dream lucidly, and I remember thinking, "Really?!! Sylvester Stallone???" But then we were clearly in love, and so I said, "Well, okay."

And then the dream changed and I was working for this covert animal rescue team. We were busting into this lab to rescue the animals. There was this evil scientist, who OF COURSE shared a striking resemblance to my mom's oncologist, holding a giant syringe. And I think I was in love with someone here, too--a fellow rescuer. And he was all cute with his khaki jacket and animal activism. And we rescued the animals--ferrets and kittens, I think.

I'm not sure which version of life I prefer. But I do wish that real life ran more like narrative life ... at least at this present moment. Narrative life, I understand and can make sense of--even at its most nonsensical. Real life, I have no idea--and I feel a little helpless and a lot like I'm just waiting for things to happen rather than being able to do anything about them. And mainly I just want it to all go away.