I need to stop eating chili pepper garlic squid late at night from the takeaway down the road. Or stop drinking. Or drink more. Or realize that coffee is not a food group and there is no nutritional need to drink a pot a day.
Sometimes in my dreams I can fly. I have flown as long as I can remember, but it isn’t easy graceful Superman flying. It takes some work to take off. I flail my arms trying to catch a puff of wind to pull me into air. Once I am up, I soar and occasionally need to bird flap to keep from crashing.
Sometimes I lose the wind and I drift down. Sometimes people are grabbing my legs and yanking me out of trees while I twist madly trying to catch a breeze to get away.
Sometimes in my dreams I am a character rather than me. Or, I am me but different.
My friends Mike and Joe were waiting to go somewhere in a moving van and I asked for a ride to school. They were my friends but I wasn’t me, I was this girl still in High School. Mike wasn’t sure if he could give me a ride because he was waiting for someone to contact him for something that he had to do. (If you knew Mike, this is really funny.) I am waiting to see if I could have a ride rather than taking the bus.
Then they were ready to go but suddenly I wasn’t dressed. I had clothes on but they were all the wrong clothes, so I was running around looking for the right clothes so I could have a ride to school.
Then I was a Muslim girl. I’m Muslim and I am looking for the right clothes to wear and nothing I have is right.
Mike and Joe are getting angry because they want to go eat sushi.
Meanwhile the part of me that is me, not the character of a Muslim schoolgirl knows that the character me is sick. I have some flu or something.
I find the right clothes and I go to the bathroom but the urine doesn’t go into the toilet. It splashes back all over the floor and on my clothes.
Now I need to clean this up and find new clothes and I’m not feeling well because I have this flu thing that the character me doesn’t know about but the real me watching does and I can’t find my clothes and I can’t find my keys and I can’t find my shoes.
And then I passed out because I was sick with this flu thing.
No more chili pepper garlic squid. Definitely.
At least I didn’t wake up in the bathtub.


March 21st, 2006 at 5:17 pm
Did I bring the wrong baby home from the hospital???
xxxxooooooo
Mom