Last night we went to the rehearsal for a wedding where Mike and I are both in the bridal party. Sebastian, also, is the ring bearer. That kid looks SO good in a Tux. I guess everybody does, but seriously… they’re going to pass a law forbidding him to walk around in one. There’ll be accidents on every corner.
Anyhow… I stopped at Starbucks on the way there and ordered a triple mocha grande, and the barista asked if I’d like yet another shot on the house. Being sick and really drained that day, I said sure and hooted with excitement. Four shots of espresso!? It was all good for a while, I felt like I actually had energy to get through the dinner. After a while, though, I started feeling like reality was trying to jolt itself out of place. I ended up driving home (alone again with the kids, as my husband really didn’t get any time off for this wedding) in hysterics. I was crying, shivering with cold (despite my fever of 100.4) and basically unsure of what the hell was going on with me.
Perhaps it has something to do with my chemical imbalance, which requires me to take amphetamines (which I haven’t in years). Maybe my chemistry reacts in an odd way to “uppers” in general? I dunno.
I have a doctor’s appointment today, in about two hours, and then a hair appointment and I’m expected at the church at noon.
After all this excitement, Mike brought me some Aleve and a bottle of water (after making me go to bed) and I finally slept. Today is better, but not for lack of weird ass dreams.
Last night I dreamed I was shopping (Oh crap, still haven’t picked up a wedding gift) and ran into the children of my ex, Travis. We have a nasty history which I won’t go into, but he’s also in this wedding party and his kids were at the rehearsal. At the rehearsal dinner his son and daughter were seated right behind me, and as kids are like to do -they visited. She wanted to hold Charlie and despite my best excuses (he’s sick, he’s fussy, he’s heavy) I finally let her hold him a minute. The son accepted my excuses, and in fact went to wash his hands after tickling the baby. As he interacted with the child on my lap, it occurred to me that he looked a lot like his mother (who I went to middle and high school with).
So in the dream I was in the apartment these children share with their father, and we were all planning something. For a while, there was some sort of dilapidated old shack that we were using as a club house, and it was about to fall over. Outside the windows (the shack was old grayish wood, weather beaten and flimsy with glass paned windows) there were a few other structures that were also on their last leg.
Suddenly we were back in the apartment (which looked only vaguely like their actual apartment) and Tiffany, my old schoolmate and mother of the boy) was cooking for them and he was calling her mom. I remember being taken aback that someone had replaced their father’s last girlfriend so quickly and they were calling her that -and then I remember that in his case, she actually was his mom.
Then I was shopping in a large department store again, walking out into the mall area,and met some girls from high school. They were the type who didn’t talk to me much, homecoming queen runner-ups, and they were purchasing name-brand clothes at a discount and trying to sell them from a table in the general mall area. I looked in a mirror and realized that I was not only shirtless, but also covered in a chest hair that was wavy and over an inch long. The nakedness didn’t really bother me, nor did the hair. For some reason, it occurred to me that every woman had chest hair like that and it wasn’t a big deal. Slowly, it began to dawn on me that these girls I was talking to might think it was gross. This seemed relatively amusing to me.
Still, though, I was looking at my “patch” in a mirror and relatively unconcerned about it. That’s about the time I woke up -contemplating my chest hair in a mirror at the mall.