Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Second helping of those Crazy Dream Chronicles™

So, since I've been awake for a little, I'm losing some of the details ... but here's the gist:

There was one part in where there were ants. LOTS of ANTS. And I was tracing where they were coming from. They were crawling up a bookshelf (like one that Michael's made for me in our house), but the setup of the house was more like my mom's house (my childhood home). I was debating on getting a spray bottle with water, alcohol, and peppermint oil ... and how badly it might hurt the books on those shelves.

DREAM PRIORITIES, YO.
YIGGITY-YO.

The other part of my dream had me going to the inside of a building. It seemed like a historical building, but also like a used-book store (which, tbh, would be a place that I'd LOVE. Since books, for cheap. And the smell of books permeating the room(s). Love that).

And there was a guy there. Kinda a larger-built guy, bushy hair ... kinda reminds me of the acupuncturist I had after a car accident. Nice guy. Haven't seen him in over a decade.

BUT, this guy, in my dream, he was a painter. And I was looking for a birthday present for Michael. And I figured that I'd get a painting ... since, well, here I am, and here's a local-artist-guy ... and we start making plans. And it'll be cool. And hopefully Michael will like it.

Later, I catch up with the artist again (LET IT BE SAID, that, irl, if I were to commission a painting, Michael and I have already agreed that we'd get it from one of our friends who does GORGEOUS seascapes and florals. Seriously, her work is amazeballs. She also makes a most wonderful neighbor and I miss her very, very much since she moved back to Utah) ... and I'm looking at the invoice....

And, like, I thought I'd be paying in the neighborhood of, say, $300 for a commissioned painting.
NO, PEEPS, NO.
It's, like, $2,198 ... and I'm just flabbergasted. I'm GASTED with FLABBER.
This is seriously expensive. And what if Michael doesn't even like it?
So I'm trying to backpedal to arrange something that, you know, we can AFFORD, while not offending his artistic sensibilities.

And that's really about the part where I wake up.

But I do miss getting acupuncture. Pretty relaxing, really.
Not as relaxing as a massage, of course. But still a bit decadent.

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