Today is going to suck so hard

So as i was laying in my recliner trying to sleep -

   Yeah, that's right, i sleep in my recliner sometimes. What of it? I've got back problems, okay? I have ever since that utter fucking douche bitch going 45 in her Lincoln Continental slammed into the passenger side of my Ford Festiva when i was 17. If anything had gone differently (aside from the old jackass not running the red light in first fucking place), i'd be dead right now. My car stopped, after spinning around 600 times, with the driver's door 15 inches from a telephone pole. If i hadn't been wearing my seat belt, i would have flown out my open window. If my window had been rolled up, i would've donked my head up in a bad, bad way. If she had been going 15 instead of 10 miles over the speed limit, my passenger seat would have totally crushed me. Anyway, back problems...i have some. Better than being dead.

So falling asleep in my recliner last night... I kept doing that thing where when my eyes would roll the sound of the fan would change and i'd hear a chunking noise which, of course, sounded exactly like a raper/murderer looking for the biggest knife in my kitchen. I kept "waking up", only i wasn't really waking up - just starting a new nightmare. By the time i did wake up, my arms were flailing and i'm pretty sure i looked like someone trying to swim to the surface of a jello pond. And basically i was.

By the time i did fall into a "regular" sleep, all my brain wanted to do was rehash the Scott Pilgrim series that i just finished. So i was fighting evil ex-boyfriends in my sleep all night. Then, all of a sudden, i'm awake at 5:09 AM. I think I'll have a pee and a glass of water and get another hour of sleep. But HELL NO! I gave up at 5:34. Sleep is just not in the cards. Do you know what this means?! It means today is going to suck so freakin' hard. AND it means my sleep schedule will be fucked FOREVER and i'm probably going to die.

So congratulations, utter fucking douche bitch. You did manage to kill me after all. It just took 18 years. Well played.

True Dreams of Anxiety

So now I'm having panic attacks in my dreams.

Last night I watched a number of bizarre movies: "Black Sheep" (hilarious horror movie wherein genetically modified sheep turn people into sheep-zombie-monsters that eat your face off), "Poolboy" (just watch it - it's horrible, i can't explain. Danny Trejo is in it though, so that's rad), and "Upside Down" (a sci-fi dystopic fantasy with really beautiful imagery and a hokey love story).

This combination of films led to a night filled with some of the craziest dreams i've ever had - almost. Here are a few fragments:

First off, i dreamt of a group of people playing a D&D-type game. The DM found a spell that brought the game to life, so the players were actually manipulating people in a tiny world that they had to protect. Since the characters were real, they continued existing and doing stuff while the DM and players were away. This led to the players spending more and more time on the game so it could go their way. The DM's daughter (who was about 8) grew more and more resentful of her dad being so engrossed and also believed that what the players were doing was wrong. She learned the way to break the spell was to kill her father. So she poured drain cleaner in the mouth pieces of all his french horns - he had like 10. Anyway, i woke up before he used one but he was going down for sure.

Another little snippet involved "Up top" which was one of the worlds in the movie "Upside Down". There was a nightclub where rich people went to do drugs, get hookers, and dance. The drug they did was a type of liquid hallucinogen that was absorbed through the skin. This was administered to patrons by having them enter into a plastic tent where the drug was rained down on them - hence, getting wet. After getting all fucked up they would go find themselves a prostitute. The prostitutes were all naked and divided into 8 gangs. Whenever a girl stole a trick from another hooker clan, an eyeball-shaped tattoo would appear in one of eights colours. If a trick went back to the original hooker clan, the skin would split at the tattoo and bleed the colour out. The hookers with the most tattoos were the most highly sought after.

The final one i feel like sharing involved nearly all my friends at some point. We were on the top of a super tall building having a dinner party - OUTSIDE the building, mind you. On one end was a high brick wall and a partial roof. Two sides had a metal railing, but the fourth side was open. I was sitting at the open end. Most of the dinner went well and we were all delighting in the rushing wind and the horses, manta rays, and sea turtles we could see flying through the clouds above and around us. Then i realized how high we were and i asked my friend Sarge to switch with me so i could be by the railing. Then i got too scared to move and had a full-blown panic attack. I laid down and scooted on my belly to the brick wall and freaked out about the ladder i knew i'd never survive. I closed my eyes and when i opened them i was at my favourite ex-boyfriend's house. He had a new baby girl with his wife and i wanted to play with her. As i sat with her, she grew up. I was so sad that i wasn't her mom that started crying and the whole basement filled up with tears.

I woke up actually crying and decided it was time to get the hell out of bed.

Wish I Had Something to Blog About

Boring alert - I got nothing. Today was a mind fuck but not in a good way. I went from checking out a potential new art space to work meeting to the emergency room to work meeting to porch to the haunted house. So here I sit waiting for the ghosts to start messing with me, but nothing. I've even managed to bore them. I didn't bring my laundry and I already did all the work stuff I brought to do. I zipped up things on my virtual farm which is possibly the most embarrassing I could have ever admitted. And I don't even care. I'm numb. There's no way I'm looking up anything questionable on my boss's computer and, anyway, I'm not in the mood. I guess I'll go back to finger weaving stupid scarves no one wants pretty soon because it's totally mindless and it helps me feel like I'm accomplishing something. I can't drug myself into sleep or drink until I pass out because I'm in charge of another human all night. I tried to sleep because I am so so tired but my brain is a dumb jerk and is all:

 Hey, don't forget that your brother-in-law is dying. That he is in pain that is unimaginable all the time even though he smiles and says he's okay. Don't forget that he has to fight against his body to breath. Think about your sister who has had so much pain and hardship piled on to her over and over for years. Think of her son, your precious little Z-man, spending his golden birthday in a terrible place he shouldn't even be. How about Michael? Your sister's twin and your hilarious big-mouth brother who died nearly 14 years ago - that day is coming right up. Worry, worry that your brother-in-law goes on Z-man's birthday in two days or on the anniversary of Michael's death a week later. Yeah, worry about that one even more. Worry that this 36 year-old-man who has laughed every day of his life and took such great care of your sister might live 9 more days in pain, tired, and just wanting rest but holding on because he wants to comfort us. Doesn't want to hurt us. And if that's not enough to think about, worry about crap that is actually arbitrary, like how you're bringing people down being all sad and deep and scared and stupid. Worry about your mind breaking again like it did 14 years ago. About losing all your friends, your job, your apartment, your ambition. Imagine that the panic attacks come back and you get depressed or, worse, super mean again and ruin everything good that you have.

So, yeah, I'm going to go finger weave the ugliest fuggin' "scarf" I can with two entire wads of yarn and watch Married With Children until the sun comes up.

Pleasant dreams, everyone.