This morning around five o’clock eastern, I dreamt I woke up with a man’s arm around my waist. While wondering what I was doing with another person in my bed, the arm in question started to creep southward. My thoughts quickly turned to why a hand would start a slow journey to a pair of pale legs when my brain put sexual intentions and unknown contact together to form “lasdkj.” (“Lasdkj” just so happens to be the first thing you think of when you freak out over the stupidest shit.) The last thing I remember of the dream is my overreaction (one of these days I’ll tell you why I overreacted, but for now, you’ll just have to make up an excuse, like I’m bat-shit insane or I have trust issues or some other cock and bull story) to very nice thoughts from a very confused Toby Maguire (he seems like he would be nice, okay). I woke up to discover that I had promptly fallen out of bed.
Okay, I wish I had just fallen out of bed.
Before I go on to what exactly happened instead of just crashing with the floor, you’re going to need to know a little bit about the current floor-plan of my room. I have a room and two beds to myself. One day out of boredom, I managed to move the beds into an “L” shape for variety. In the corner of the “L” is a nightstand that is completely level with the mattresses on the beds. Upon the nightstand is a skinny little lamp, a few books, a coaster, my glasses and sometimes a cup with a little bit of water left over from the previous night. No matter which bed I’m sleeping in, my head is resting on the end forming the corner. Today there was water in a bright pink, thankfully plastic cup.
When I reacted to my dream lover, I was going through the motions in real life. Unfortunately for me, the beds weren’t arranged in real life like they were in the dream. I was expecting to get rough with the floor instead of shoving my face in the crack between the beds, slamming my lower abdomen in to the edges of the nightstand, spilling water on my thigh and crotch, being stabbed by my own glasses, and getting jumped by a renegade lampshade.
But on the positive side of things, at least several people have offered to kiss my bruises to make me feel better.
Sincerely,
Roxy
Labels: dreams, I heart spiderman, renegade appliances