Wednesday, March 14, 2012

OUT OF IT

Between writing and keeping the house clean for prospective buyers, I'm about to lose it. This picking up and putting away and scrubbing and dusting is for the birds. We rush around like crazy before a viewer comes, then we have to go and lose ourselves for 1,2 or more hours. We're getting fat because we often kill time by going to Wendy's for a Frosty.

And the madness is showing up in my dreams. This morning I dreamed I was in my car when my cell rang. We're in the process of changing to a voice-over?? system (or something like that) so I figured my guy was testing it. Still, I was miffed. He knows I hate to talk and drive.

"What!" I snapped, trying to dodge traffic.

"Hon! Hon!" he says, all panicky. "Did you dispose?"

Did I dispose? "Dispose of what?"

"You know!" His panic increases. "Did you?"

And I woke up. Never did figure out what I was supposed to dispose of. Cat litter? Garbage? Old clothes?

I asked when he woke up, but he just looked blank. Some places it's best not to go.

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