the chaos ensues
I had delirious dreams all night long: I don't know what to blame them on -- the apple-cinnamon TheraFlu I drank before going to sleep, or the drill-shaped upper respiratory virus boring a tighter and tighter hole into the center of my skull. Maybe both.
I dreamed I was at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, and this guy who blackmailed me, in the first grade, into giving him my Snoopy pencil eraser followed me around asking me questions. I felt so annoyed! All I wanted to do was paint, matching up sand tones with yellow ochre, cad white and a little bit of cad red.
I dreamed I was in high school again and I kept skipping the science and math classes (I have that dream a lot) and the principal told me I could make it up by taking an extra piano class. Only I couldn't play an actual piano (another recurring theme); I had to stand in front of a closet and slam coat hangers into a sort of xylophone attachment bolted horizontally across the back wall. It gave a whole new dimension to the idea of percussion.
I woke up sweating from both dreams. Sweating and shivering and pulling at my hair, which fortunately I'd braided tightly before going to sleep; so I couldn't tear much out.
Now I just shake. I feel all trembly, like I've got stage fright, only there's no stage; just the house and the kids to take care of, and a lot of laundry to finish before Christmas.