I just woke up from a dream. In the dream, my parents had come here to visit, and we were at some sort of store, or restaurant, or something. We were talking about where to go for dinner. I wanted to take them to the Melting Pot, and I think my dad had another idea, somewhere we’d already gone once before. I was going to grudgingly agree with him, ‘cause it somehow seemed important to him. I remember looking over the stuff at the shop we were in before we left. There were some ornaments or somesuch, and I remember realizing that I had no money for Christmas presents, and that Christmas with my family was early this year. Anyway, we left there. We were driving, and we ended up driving through downtown, in an area I’d never seen before. There was this huge, awesome amusement park, and I wondered if we were driving through a little-known area of Six Flags. Somehow, we ended up in something that flew, although I don’t remember us stopping, or getting out of the car. We ended up, my parents and I, in this open vehicle thing, kinda round, going over an ocean. Actually, very similar to the ocean I flew over in the raven dream.
Anyway, somehow the dream skips directly from there to me going to this house. It’s either a friend’s house, or some sort of brothel, or both. My parents are gone at this point. I go there, waiting for
It was at this point that I started to get mad. I was furious with
Home turns out to be my college dorm. He goes in quickly, and heads up the stairs, obviously avoiding me. I know I’m supposed to go get the mail first, and I spend some time figuring out where our mailbox is, since the mailroom got moved around from the last time I was in there.
So, any meaning of the dream aside, the alarm goes off at this point, so I wake up with no resolution for this ethereal anger I’ve got going on regarding all this. I wake up angry at my husband for a dream. And, while I know this is pretty unreasonable, it still persists.
Add this to the fact that it’s gaming night, and he’s STILL not home. I absolutely HATE waking up to him not being here. The fact that this is my first day of work, and he knows this, and he didn’t make it a point to be here before I got up is also infuriating. He knows how important those few minutes between the first buzz of the alarm and the second are to me, to be able to roll over and hold him for just a little while before I have to get up, or he does.
Also, I’m furious at those running the game (in this case, Amy) for not being more fucking considerate of other people’s schedules when they make these goddamn storylines. They may not have a life, or may be willing to forfeit it, or sleep, or whatever, but they have no fucking right to set up a game such that it robs other people of that. And, frankly, in this case, robs me of that.
So, here I am, too fucking early in the morning, pissed off at my husband for partially nebulous and partially founded reasons. I got a message on the voicemail at about 5:30am, saying they were still gaming, and he looked forward to cuddling with me in bed when he did get home. Well, I’m up, I need to shower and get to work, and it just ain’t gonna happen, and that’s no one’s fault but his. He knew perfectly well I needed to get to work this morning, he knew what time, he knew (basically) where, and he could have easily figured out what time I needed to leave to make all that happen. If he had wanted to cuddle with me that badly, he could have damn well made it here in time to do that.
Fuck.
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Date: 2003-03-10 02:28 pm (UTC)