Freaking Nightmare

Hello! My blog has moved (again). And this morning I woke up with the impulse to write (you’ll see why in a minute) so I moved blog-home, and then thought, “huh, the last time I wrote something was A YEAR AGO.” That tag line is very, very true. (Incidentally, if you did want to see my previous brain-farts, I mean, blog posts, you can go to

Anyway, I woke up at 5.12am this morning, having had THE most terrifying nightmare I could have ever imagined. I mean, I say, the most terrifying, I’ve probably had worse nightmares (Ma? Can you enlighten us?) but at this particular moment in time (07.45am, cup of team in hand), the nightmare from last night WINS.

I dreamt I was getting married.

Yeah, I know. That should not be that terrifying. Allow me to elucidate.

I was marrying someone I had never met, but the rest of my family seemed to know him, and quite like him. (As much as it was possible for dream-parents and dream-brothers to like someone who was stupid enough to throw their lot in with me. And my dad didn’t like him, per se, he just liked him more than the person I thought I was marrying.) I basically had dream-amnesia. Dream-Lucy went, “Hey, I know who I’m marrying, it’s that guy, from that place,” and IT WASN’T. I went along with the wedding plans, thinking I was marrying that guy, from that place, and Narrator-Lucy said, “You can do better, but look how happy everyone is, perhaps you are doing the right thing, perhaps endentured servitude, I mean, marriage, won’t be so bad.”

AND THEN IT TURNED OUT TO BE SOMEONE I’VE NEVER MET. Whose family, BTW, were all South African gun runners. (DREAM ME IS SO FREAKING WEIRD.) (Also, this is important, because in my dream, they shot at my Auntie Mary, who kicked ASS in returning fire, and it turns out she was a super-ninja, which wouldn’t surprise anyone who met my Auntie Mary, she is genuinely a bit terrifying and brilliant. And probably knows how to handle a gun, I wouldn’t put it past her.)

Anyway, this complete stranger and I are supposed to be getting married, and I was trying to convey to my parents through the use of strategic eyebrow movements that I was NOT DOWN with this plan, and for some reason, we’d chosen the nastiest hotel we could find for a wedding location, and so Ma and I ran away to the bedroom, whilst my dad went and found where I’d left my wedding dress, and it turned out we had a bed in a cupboard for our room.

Dream-Me went mental, and started complaining to the manager that we’d been shoved into the nasty-ass cupboard and the manager just looked at me with this supercilious expression and said, “If you truly loved him, it wouldn’t matter where you were getting married,” and then I killed her with a poisoned lipstick.

And then I woke up, having a full-blown panic and practically screaming, “I don’t want to get married!” and I was extremely relieved to find out it was just a nightmare. Although I am slightly worried that my unconscious solution to the dream-problems was murder. “This is annoying me….*death*….not any more.”

Talking of nightmares, I have to go get ready for work now…..enjoy your Tuesdays, and may your dreams be free of unwanted weddings. Byeeeeeeeeee!

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