Headvoice

A season less boring...

Ah, the holiday season, filled with the same crap as the rest of the year but with 'festivity' loaded on top like so much sour cream on a baked potato.

Luigi seems to be yawning at it all, but he has been more active like most of us too.

Executive summary:
- Company "holiday party"; check. Sat next to the boss at his table and managed not to embarrass myself.

- Gift shopping; check. Mom's gonna do well this year as she should. Too often she has ended up with poorly fitting bathrobes and sweaters.

- Cards sent to family and friends... oh oh. Mark said he was going to do this... but hasn't. Can you send New Year's cards and not look like complete boobs?

- Travel arrangements; check. Flying to Newark on Thursday morning and coming back to TO on Tuesday.

- Seasonal weather; CHECK! It was -9F this morning! Sheeesh.

Nightmares

Maybe it was the later than normal snacking before bed, but I woke up this morning in a claustrophobic haze of fear. Two separate nightmares plagued me last night and left me full of anxious dread.

The first was one of those dreamscapes massively rich in detail and yet composed entirely by my subconscious. It was in the near future... set in a city surrounded by and frequently covered in water. The skies were crystal blue, as if painted by a master surrealist. But the city and it's inhabitants were a reworking of that Waterworld movie that Kevin Costner made with a little less ragged outfits. My art direction was more Star Wars than post-apocalypse.

In this production I was the outcast from another land, chasing after an unusual laptop after I broke my first one. Everything worked against me and I kept running in fear. Gangs chased me into tiny waterlogged elevators... and then, later in the early morning hours, after waking up briefly, the second nightmare started.

This time the situation was a quiet neighborhood sharing the same cerulean sky, but the cast was just me and Mark and five adorable beagle puppies. They were all the same age and very obedient. All of us were out walking in the sunshine when a huge steam roller appeared in a driveway entrance and then Mark drove over the puppies and they changed into little pieces of gray charcoal. His face was frozen with dread... with our eyes were locked together in terror.

A hour later I was on the sofa, sipping from a hot pot of breakfast tea, when the tears started streaming down my face... and I cried for ten minutes or so thinking my long anticipated complete nervous breakdown was finally here.

Dreams don't normally bother me much. But I am worried about what tonight may bring. Could memories of a "Charlie Brown Christmas" rise up and push me into a catatonic state? We will see...