Lately, I’ve been having strange dreams. Last night was the strangest. I regularly dream of my my childhood best friend, but last night my dream was not good. I have two types of Christi dreams: we’re catching up over coffee, or we’re in a real-experience adjacent situation. But last night, she was aged. Also, she was alive, but her sister was dead as a result of some kind of foul play. We had to figure out what happened, and it was not pretty, or fun.
When I wake up after that, I feel like I was a failed part of some kind of government hostage task force. According to what I see on TV, of course. I just mean that in the dream, I experience weighty emotional pressure with little reward.
Then I immediately blame recent contact with another old friend. Contact with old friends on Facebook is a blessing, but it also stirs up some painful stuff.
I have two high school reunions on the horizon. The first is the high school from which I actually graduated. The other is the class I would have graduated with if I would have not transferred in ninth grade, but would have stayed with the same students I started school with in kindergarten. And, when did I get old enough for even one 20-year-reunion?!
Good grief, the freaking Smurfs movie trailer is on non-stop these days … I can’t get away from reminders of my elderliness. Oh, and there’s the fact that Doogie Howser is all over the Smurf’s trailers. And I’m totally out of shape and haven’t worked out in months. The easy solution is to work out! The realistic solution is to somehow find the money to hire a personal trainer to brow-beat me into a workout regimen. I feel like the Mud Lady from the Swiffer commercials, like, ew, attract me.