a flick of the wrist
(Bear with me here…my wrist is injured, so typing is a bit challenging).
I was so tired after work on Thursday that I literally ended up passing out with Fogg and slept for about 7-8 hours. I wish it was some restorative sleep that made me feel fantastic upon waking, but it definitely wasn’t. Instead, I woke up utterly starving since I didn’t eat, and my thumb was in a lot of pain. I think I slept on it wrong. In any case, I feel like I have tendonitis. It will move, just really painfully. It’s now approaching 2:30 am, and I feel like I should eat some dinner, but considering I have to be up in four hours for work, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.
I really shouldn’t be writing this either, but I had a dream–a Mama dream–and it was bad. Before I lose all the details, I’m just going to brain dump to get it out and recorded somewhere. If any of you have any insight into wtf is coming out of my brain, please do share.
So, in this dream, I’m in present day Denver, but I’m living by myself in the house I shared with my Mama as a child. Only my Mama is alive, and she is not living there. She seems to have been living there up until recently, but she is now elsewhere–kinda like what’s been going on with my roommate. (This is interesting, actually, because my last Mama dream involved my Mama essentially acting in the role of my roommate, leaving CA to go to Denver…super weird).
Our home isn’t freestanding like it actually was before. It is instead connected to a bunch of other homes like a big multiplex, all in a row, with the parking lot in front. I’m home alone, and it’s approaching nighttime. It’s pouring down rain, and I hear screaming coming from outside. Our living room window and the upstairs windows are covered in heavy bedspreads and blankets–so you can’t see out easily. I remember we did this once in the living room when we were remodeling to keep light/bugs/noise out at night. I manage to peek outside, and I notice an entire row–like hundreds–of KKK members in full garb–outside of our homes. They are yelling and carrying megaphones. Then they start picking up big rocks and start throwing them at the homes–breaking windows. One rock actually comes into my living room–and our windows start breaking–but nothing inside the house is disturbed.
I get on the phone and call the cops. I say my name and that this is happening. Instead of going to a 911 dispatcher, it goes directly to a cop who says they know nothing about it–and asks–didn’t this happen last month? I say I don’t know, but they’re doing it now, and I need help. He says he’ll be over soon. When I’m talking to him, apparently, the KKK can hear me. And this man–in full KKK garb–this angry, small, red-faced man comes through the broken window–like a ghost since he doesn’t actually disturb anything and just seems to float inside–and screams at me that he’s going to get me.
He then disappears and all of them go away. I go upstairs to survey the damage and make sure they’re gone. I see cars parked sideways, and there is then a bunch a police cars parked in the driveway of a neighbor across the street. It starts pouring down hail.
A few minutes later, my Mama shows up–saying we need to move now–that we shouldn’t wait. We start throwing everything in garbage bags.
And then I wake up.
I woke up with this wrist and thumb pain. I’m not sure if I was doing something with my wrist as I was dreaming, but I woke up with this horrible pain right on the wrist for the muscle that connects to the thumb. There’s even a red splotch and definite inflammation. I tried massaging it and took some ibuprofen. I have a wrist guard from my carpal tunnel loveliness on it now. Guess I should sleep with that thing on, huh?
I think I will go get something to eat and try to get back to bed. Oy.