Dream Weaver

(Be forewarned.  This gets ugly.)

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I’ve been so torn about what to write about today that I’ve frittered away all my writing time not writing.  Dang it!

I’ve got some strong feelings and I’m not sure how to articulate them… Not like that’s ever stopped me before…

First of all, I had a strange dream this morning.  At first it wasn’t too big of a deal.  I dreamed that I was riding, as a passenger, in a small airplane with Lance Bass as the pilot.  It was some sort of celebration for him on his “last day as a member of *Nsync”.  I remember exactly three things from this part of the dream:

1. Lance and I were apparently already friends.
2. I asked him, “*Nsync still exists?”
3. He did an unannounced barrel role in the plane and freaked everyone out.  (Can you even do barrel roles in non-fighter jet planes?)

The dream turned dark and disturbing when we returned to the air field, however.  Upon returning to the air field/airport all hell broke out as there was random and indiscriminate shooting taking place inside the hangar.  It gets weirder.  Somehow, and go with me here, Mischa, my cat, was the  one doing the shooting.  I don’t remember a lot of the details of this part of the dream but I remember that as the scene progressed and there was some “defensive shooting” being done, Mischa got shot in the chest.  Now that he was no longer shooting at people, I made my way over to him and scooped him up…

And took him to the vets office that was conveniently located to the side of the hangar, of course, because why wouldn’t it be?  I rushed in the door of the vets office with Mischa lying limp in my arms and heard his labored breathing as he fought against the air rushing in and out of the bullet hole in his chest…

And I told the vet to put him to sleep.  Without batting an eye or missing a beat, the vet, grabbed a syringe full of whatever they use to put animals to sleep and injected it into Mischa…

And I held Mischa in my arms and listened to his breathing slow and ease until…

I woke up.  Late, as usual, and rushing to get ready for what was supposed to be a fairly laid back day at work, but turned out instead to be one interruption after another.  Much of the day was spent thinking about this dream, until I went for my regular therapy session…

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Actually…

I was going to say some things about the conversation I had with Deb, but I’m realizing I really need to mull it over some more, and that I should put that off until tomorrow, and that writing about my dream was a little more difficult than I expected and has me a little disjointed.  I suppose if I was smart I’d delete this whole post and go home, huh?