Dream a Little Dream
Today's been a pleasant, relaxing day. I've been able to relax more since I've been keeping up with the housework a little better and the house doesn't embarrass me when we have someone over. A friend of mine says she has CHAOS at her house; Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome. She thinks people come to see her house, no one does, they're coming to see her. Silly woman.
I do this weird thing, when I'm worried about something I have these odd, distorted dreams, somewhat related to whatever it is, but not realistic, just strange.
Yesterday and all last night mom was giving us fits, babbling loudly, calling for Momma, Aunt Della, and Grandma, peeling off all her bandages, doing precisely the opposite of what we needed her to do (stand up means sit down, walk means walk backwards, sit down means stand up, and if she's feeling frisky, pitch yourself off in an unexpected direction so someone will hurt their back trying to keep you from hurting yourself). Don had a gig at Joe's Bar in Llano and forgot his lyrics book. He knows every chord to every song he's ever played but knows about half the words to two songs-total. I had to drive to Llano to give him his book (he was lead, and the only singer), leaving mom alone, but not for long.
So the dreams I had last night were of mom walking around with her walker (she doesn't walk around anymore) buck naked, falling down and getting huge bleeding wounds wherever she struck something hard. A hideous sight. Also, the dream was that Don disappeared for 2 days, calling me but not knowing where he was so I couldn't come and get him. I finally found him and he'd been in an accident and had been in the hospital for those 2 days, but he didn't know where and had some doctor certify him for disability so he wouldn't have to work anymore. The funny thing was when I started to tell Don about the dream, he said, "Well, if it was realistic I probably didn't know where I was!". He didn't! Arf. I need to stop dreaming, it's just so ridiculous.
We had a lovely evening. Don worked this afternoon, putting up sheet rock for a friend (with help from said friend). Our friend Jerialice has a good gig this week and needed a haircut to look normal. When bits of hair bother her she whacks them off and lets it go at that. She colored her hair before she came over and I cut it for her. We fed her and sent her home happy and cute. Maybe I'll get some gigs out of this when her friends see her hair *smile*. I cut Don's and mom's and my hair, and our friend Thierry's.
Years ago I had a lot of bad haircuts and had to come home and "fix" them. Finally, I got it. I can give MYSELF a bad haircut, so why pay someone else to do it? I got a few books from the library and got to work. Once in awhile I made a mistake, but fixed it up by cutting a bit shorter. It only takes about a week for a really short cut to grow out anyway.
I love you,