You ever have one of those dreams that you can’t move in, that are awful? Yeah.
I’m at my in-laws in preparation for T-day tomorrow, and I had the worst dream I think I’ve ever had in my entire life, that I remember. I woke up-ish, but I couldn’t move. And in my dream, my husband was standing beside the bed, Paranormal Activity style, just staring down at me. I knew he was in the main house, talking to his folks, but I saw him there. And then I felt fur brush by my hand, cat fur, like my cat — that is back at home, not here. No matter how much my consciousness tried to bust me out, it couldn’t, and my panic kept rising. I kept turning on lights that wouldn’t go on, and turning on my phone which wouldn’t light up, and my husband kept coming into the room staring blankly down at me while things that felt like cat feet walking on the bed kept pacing back and forth, while I couldn’t get free or call for help. I finally got my blindfold off, in my dream, and looked at the clock, which only read 11.
I finally shook it off and really took off my blindfold and reached for my phone, but dang, that was the worst dream ever.
It’s ironic, because there are plenty of other actual things here to be scared of. I present a small assortment:
Satanic goat head planter!
The Lovecraftian Undertoad!
The psychotically cheerful upside down giraffe!
Okay, maybe not that last one.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I’ll be at work tomorrow night. No one fall into a turkey frier, please ;).