I dreamed that I was pretty and good at acting so Tom Hanks let me lean on him and hold his hand for a bit before a scene. Nice. Then, I realized that the roles that Tom Hanks plays are a lot like how Mike is in real life and there he was, my Mike next to me, and I wasn't doing anything wrong as I enjoyed my position. I love that about dreams. They let you realize something about your situation. Oh, it's always a metaphor, so you have to think on it for a while, but it's there.
A friend of Nick's is moving away. I dreamed of him too, out in the wilderness by himself and that Nick and I left sandwiches on his trail so he'd eat well. Suddenly, our plans for summer are dashed. Well, they're more complicated than they were before. These two boys were so good together that watching them hang out made me happy. So now, I have to make sure that his mom knows how I feel and that I'd like to try to make things easier for them and keep them connected. I hope I can do that.
The complication here is that she and I haven't known each other for long and I didn't call or text at all during spring break because I had this stupid virus. So, it probably doesn't have anything to do with me, but she didn't respond to my last text. So what's a dork to do?
Okay, I'm not back to normal here. I'm phasing in and out of this, not quite well, not quite sick. I could sit here all day and not really get anything accomplished. Teddy needs a walk. I need a dinner plan. I don't even feel like taking a shower. On Sunday, I took a shower to go out and I was exhausted by the time I got dry and had to go lie down again. Yesterday wasn't like that, but I can tell I'm not jumping back up onto my feet with this virus. Is this how people feel when they're turning into zombies?
Am I becoming a zombie? No fair. I didn't know I was turning into a zombie. I don't want to eat brains. I don't even like brains no matter what they call them at that fancy restaurant I went to in New York City once a long time ago. Are all the people who ordered that on the menu already zombies? Is everyone I know who already had this virus already a zombie and their husbands are hiding it by bringing home already-roasted chickens and bags of green beans that will steam in the microwave?
I can't believe I went to the grocery store last night and I didn't get anything for dinner. Don't you hate when you do that? Now, I have to go back out and shop again.
Wait, was there supposed to be whine with this meal?
No? Sorry. I thought you ordered whine.
Okay, I have a plan. Keep it simple. I will need to shower. And I need to make a dinner plan. After that, I can go back to bed if I want. Doesn't that sound nice? Don't you just love that feeling when you get to crawl back into bed and snuggle down into the sheets?
I'm not ready for prime time here. Maybe the plan is to let Tom Hanks pick up one of those already-roasted chickens and a bag of green beans that steams in the microwave and let the dog walk himself on his own inside the house. Then I can crawl back in bed to cozy up with those sheets and that fluffy pillow. Yeah, that.
Good plan, Mike. Don't tell anybody I'm turning into a zombie, okay?
Thank you for listening, jb
A friend of Nick's is moving away. I dreamed of him too, out in the wilderness by himself and that Nick and I left sandwiches on his trail so he'd eat well. Suddenly, our plans for summer are dashed. Well, they're more complicated than they were before. These two boys were so good together that watching them hang out made me happy. So now, I have to make sure that his mom knows how I feel and that I'd like to try to make things easier for them and keep them connected. I hope I can do that.
The complication here is that she and I haven't known each other for long and I didn't call or text at all during spring break because I had this stupid virus. So, it probably doesn't have anything to do with me, but she didn't respond to my last text. So what's a dork to do?
Okay, I'm not back to normal here. I'm phasing in and out of this, not quite well, not quite sick. I could sit here all day and not really get anything accomplished. Teddy needs a walk. I need a dinner plan. I don't even feel like taking a shower. On Sunday, I took a shower to go out and I was exhausted by the time I got dry and had to go lie down again. Yesterday wasn't like that, but I can tell I'm not jumping back up onto my feet with this virus. Is this how people feel when they're turning into zombies?
Am I becoming a zombie? No fair. I didn't know I was turning into a zombie. I don't want to eat brains. I don't even like brains no matter what they call them at that fancy restaurant I went to in New York City once a long time ago. Are all the people who ordered that on the menu already zombies? Is everyone I know who already had this virus already a zombie and their husbands are hiding it by bringing home already-roasted chickens and bags of green beans that will steam in the microwave?
I can't believe I went to the grocery store last night and I didn't get anything for dinner. Don't you hate when you do that? Now, I have to go back out and shop again.
Wait, was there supposed to be whine with this meal?
No? Sorry. I thought you ordered whine.
Okay, I have a plan. Keep it simple. I will need to shower. And I need to make a dinner plan. After that, I can go back to bed if I want. Doesn't that sound nice? Don't you just love that feeling when you get to crawl back into bed and snuggle down into the sheets?
I'm not ready for prime time here. Maybe the plan is to let Tom Hanks pick up one of those already-roasted chickens and a bag of green beans that steams in the microwave and let the dog walk himself on his own inside the house. Then I can crawl back in bed to cozy up with those sheets and that fluffy pillow. Yeah, that.
Good plan, Mike. Don't tell anybody I'm turning into a zombie, okay?
Thank you for listening, jb
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