This is for wanderingmogwai
Does this look like the face of a 45-year-old? In my head, I'm still 25, but my back begs to differ....
Edit: I spent the day at "work" (we're still closed) watching Aerosmith videos on YouTube (I forgot how WEIRD they are...), then went home to a steak dinner and facetiming with my silly nieces most of the evening. It was a good day.
Just wanted to letcha all know.
Then, of course, THE VIRUS hit the U.S. I've been off work all week (and only going a little stir crazy). I had to go in briefly this evening to do payroll and pay any outstanding bills because it looks like we could be shut down for a while. I have this crazy feeling we're going to end up under a nation-wide mandatory quarantine soon.
Anyway, I'm fine, so far, as is Ethel and all our critters. I'll try to find more stuff to write about, now that I have little else to do.
I hope all my LJ friends are healthy!
I hope you are all well!
I was someone else (I think). I was in a loving relationship with a guy either named Victor or with the last name of Victor. We had a cute little apartment in some city and were so in love. One day, we go to some sort of festival that is crowded. We eventually get separated. I am looking for him, but can't find him, and get more desparate as I look (this is actually a recurring theme in some of my dreams). Eventually, I decide he must have gone home, so I go home. He's not there. I wait for him, getting distraught as the night wears on. Eventually, I file a missing person's report with the police.
It skips ahead.
Now I'm living somewhere else with family, and they are abusive. They are basically holding me captive. I'm never alone. I'm afraid of them - even the women. There is violence - I even remember kicking out in defense at a couple of the men's heads. (WTF??) One day we load up in some sort of trailer and head to the city - the one I used to live in with Mr. Victor. I start to hatch a plan. I put on a second layer of clothes (so I can shed one later and be wearing something different).
(Weird detail--) I skin my knee. And, somehow, this doesn't mess up my plans, as my second layer of clothing includes a pair of shorts that will make my skinned knee obvious. I'm holding a tissue to my knee, I very clearly remember dropping the used tissue into a small trash can under an end table near a sliding, screened door, and then I'm out the door!
I'm running a zig zag through the city, down alleys, hiding, shedding the top layer of my clothes because I know my family will report me to the police. I know they will tell them I am the crazy, violent one. There will be an APB on me. I make my way to the cop who took my missing person's report earlier. He believes me and "rescues" me. Then he tells me he eventually found Mr. Victor.
It skips ahead again. Victor is telling me that he had met someone else at the festival we were at and ran off with them - that's why he was "missing." I was heart-broken all over again. I still can feel the deep, aching pain I felt in this dream.
Then, I am in a therapist's office doing the entry paperwork to start getting my life together. THE END
This was all this morning, right before my alarm went off. I feel groggy and shitty right now.
Did I mention how tired I am?
I've counted 4 so far. I have no idea how many there actually are because they are so small my eyes can barely distinguish them from the detritous in the bottom if my tank.