I had some seriously fucked up dreams last night. Shit that you would generally find in a nice horror flick. After Sweety left for work around 5 a.m. I couldn't go back to sleep because I was afraid I'd start having them again. I woke up from the dream when he was getting ready for work and when I dozed back off I had it again. Screw that. I'm just going to stay awake until the sun comes up and once it burns up the bad dream fumes that are in the atmosphere I'll take a nap. This is the price I pay for watching a show on the telly that involved burn victims.
After Sweety left I couldn't decide if I wanted to leave the bedroom door open (which is normally left closed) so I could turn on a light in the kitchen or if I wanted to lock my door and open the window so I could make a quick escape if something comes lurching after me. Then I figured I'd need to go rescue the kids if something did come crawling outta the dark after me and I entertained the notion of going to sleep on BB's floor but that would be too close to whatever lives under his bed. I finally decided on just shutting my own bedroom door and keeping the lamp handy to hurl at any zombie things that may come calling. Zombies are rotting right? The lamp should cripple them and give me enough time to get the kids and dogs out of here.
I just read what I wrote. I am a nutcase.