He Did WHAT?!?

092904

My synapses are not firing correctly. That's got to be it.

I had the most disturbing dream last night. HD, his dad and I were all on some weird summer vacation - together(!). We were at this huge resort/lodge that was apparently in Wisconsin, based on the foliage.

Ok - first weird thing: if we were in Wisconsin, why would we go to some big public lodge/hotel instead of camping at the island? But, this being a dream, that didn't occur to me. Apparently we were on a Brady-esque "let's be a family" reunion tour.

So anyway, we were doing weird only-tv-vacations-are-really-like-this activities through the whole dream, until suddenly HD and I were alone in the parlor (yes this hotel/lodge had an actual room called the parlor - no more "Clue" games before bed for me).

With all the logic of a lingerie-clad heroine from an 80's horror film, I left HD alone in the parlor (great parenting skills in dreamland) and wandered out into the dark to find daddy dearest.

For some reason (oh yeah - I'm psychic in my dreams) I wandered directly to an unfamiliar car, and there in the front seat, was my co-parent, buck naked and sharing a (clearly post-coital) joint with an equally nude friend of mine.

Ok, now, the drug culture is so foreign to me, not only does it feel strange to type the word "joint", I don't even know any synonyms to use instead. I'm not even sure what I dreamed was the right thing. It was my "as seen on TV" version of a joint. Of course, since it was my dream, it was as realistic as it needed to be.

They both looked up at me, totally non-plussed, and started speaking to me in some friendly tone, but my ears were only hearing the oceanic throbbing of the blood pulsing through my head, fwoosh fwoosh fwoosh fwoosh.

This is the one friend I KNOW would never hook up with one of my ex's - and neither one of them would ever smoke anything - let alone pot! So my combined feelings of betrayal and disillusionment latched on and piggy-backed right on out of the dream, to stay with me as my alarm went off.

Now here's where the grey matter really did a number on me: I was able to explain to my angry self that people can't be held responsible for things they do in my dreams. Particularly when their dreamworld actions are so out of character and absurd. Still, I managed to stay furious with El-Daddio.

Against my own sense of logic and fair play, I managed to justify my anger, thus ensuring I wouldn't be able to shake it off by the time I'd eaten breakfast:

This guy obviously did something to make me feel however I must have been feeling when I went to bed last night; that's why my subconscious came up with such a crappy dream. See? All his fault.

Don't ask how I expect him to make it up to me. My brain hasn't told me yet.