lspencer534
01-25-2015, 11:30am
I had two drinks last night, and I was so out of it I could hardly cook dinner. I did manage to grill 3 pieces of bacon and make toast for some fig preserves. Not that I was hungry, just my Grandmother's drilled-in advice that we have to keep our strength up.
I then literally did a carom down the hall, bouncing from wall to opposite wall. Mind you, this was early, about 7:00 p.m. I as coughing all the way, but wasn't shivering. (Doubling up on the Tylenol does that.) I still had to untie the blankets on the bed from last night, but at least they were dry. I "chose" (Har-har) to sleep in my socks, jeans, and a Winter T-shirt. Too bad I didn't remember to take a leak. Second time is the charm....
Then I began the psychedelic odyssey with the three plastic boxes that appeared in my dream. The boxes were sort of translucent white. all had tops on them, and they were pretty large...except when they nestled inside each other...then they looked small. So much for storage capacity when they're nestled inside one another.
The boxes didn't talk...but they could move around. I could've sworn we were on a trip or a journey to...somewhere. At one stop the boxes bought a towel: A white one with something red on it. The boxes were all proud of the towel. Strange....
I suddenly woke up and sat up in bed. I went to pee again, got back in bed and checked the time: 7:35. Decided I'd try to sleep again...although now I'm worried a little about the boxes: Why do they need a towel?
I coughed for about 30 minutes. My face and pillow are now covered in phlegm. Too early for more cough syrup, I'll just have to tough it out. The coughing made me taste my dinner. I kinda drift off to our journey: The towels are acting edgy....
I wake up in a sick sweat: I'm going to throw up. I jump out of bed, step on the cat, she screams. WTF are you screaming about?!? You're the one who can see in the dark!!! I assume the position in front of the big enameled God. I am rewarded with gobs of bacon-flavored puke. It burns my throat and sends me into a long, hurtful coughing episode. I pass out.
Much later I'm back in bed trying to make sense of the events: I distinctly remember throwing up and smelling bacon. There's no vomit on me or my T-shirt, but my shirt is damp and smells like bacon. I can only assume Annie ate it. I change T-shirts....
It's now almost midnight. I'm not sleepy any more. Actually, I fear the boxes. I don't want to be alone with them any longer. Despite my better judgement, I fall asleep. The boxes are sleeping, too. I decide to look at their towel. WTF??? It's not a red design on the towel...it's blood! I see streaks of it on the box walls. I jump out of bed to see how badly they've cut me. First I have to pick myself off the floor after hitting the door jamb in my hurry. I flung on the bath room light and look in the mirror. No blood...except for the recent door jamb wound.
It's now 2:00 a.m. My heart is racing, my breathing is fast. I decide to get up and go sit in the work shop to calm down. I'm never going to sleep again.
I then literally did a carom down the hall, bouncing from wall to opposite wall. Mind you, this was early, about 7:00 p.m. I as coughing all the way, but wasn't shivering. (Doubling up on the Tylenol does that.) I still had to untie the blankets on the bed from last night, but at least they were dry. I "chose" (Har-har) to sleep in my socks, jeans, and a Winter T-shirt. Too bad I didn't remember to take a leak. Second time is the charm....
Then I began the psychedelic odyssey with the three plastic boxes that appeared in my dream. The boxes were sort of translucent white. all had tops on them, and they were pretty large...except when they nestled inside each other...then they looked small. So much for storage capacity when they're nestled inside one another.
The boxes didn't talk...but they could move around. I could've sworn we were on a trip or a journey to...somewhere. At one stop the boxes bought a towel: A white one with something red on it. The boxes were all proud of the towel. Strange....
I suddenly woke up and sat up in bed. I went to pee again, got back in bed and checked the time: 7:35. Decided I'd try to sleep again...although now I'm worried a little about the boxes: Why do they need a towel?
I coughed for about 30 minutes. My face and pillow are now covered in phlegm. Too early for more cough syrup, I'll just have to tough it out. The coughing made me taste my dinner. I kinda drift off to our journey: The towels are acting edgy....
I wake up in a sick sweat: I'm going to throw up. I jump out of bed, step on the cat, she screams. WTF are you screaming about?!? You're the one who can see in the dark!!! I assume the position in front of the big enameled God. I am rewarded with gobs of bacon-flavored puke. It burns my throat and sends me into a long, hurtful coughing episode. I pass out.
Much later I'm back in bed trying to make sense of the events: I distinctly remember throwing up and smelling bacon. There's no vomit on me or my T-shirt, but my shirt is damp and smells like bacon. I can only assume Annie ate it. I change T-shirts....
It's now almost midnight. I'm not sleepy any more. Actually, I fear the boxes. I don't want to be alone with them any longer. Despite my better judgement, I fall asleep. The boxes are sleeping, too. I decide to look at their towel. WTF??? It's not a red design on the towel...it's blood! I see streaks of it on the box walls. I jump out of bed to see how badly they've cut me. First I have to pick myself off the floor after hitting the door jamb in my hurry. I flung on the bath room light and look in the mirror. No blood...except for the recent door jamb wound.
It's now 2:00 a.m. My heart is racing, my breathing is fast. I decide to get up and go sit in the work shop to calm down. I'm never going to sleep again.