Last night I had a dream in which I was helping a friend move a decomposing corpse (In a body bag with a broken zipper no less) across town for the purposes of reanimation experimentation. I was also in charge of holding a ziplock full of putrid flesh. I woke up with my eyeballs wide open and staring into darkness, wondering Double You Tee Eff, brain?! Knock it off before I stab you with a Q-tip.
And yet, this remains the most pleasant aspect of the past two days. Real life adventures include:
* Seeing an ad for a rental house one town over and thinking, “sounds cute, in the right school district. The hell. Let’s check it out.”
* Starting an instantaneous sicko relationship with this house upon 15 minute walk-through: It is too awesome to pass up without serious regret, and yet has too many flaws to seriously consider. We love it! It won’t work! Oh it makes us laugh and cry to know of it’s existence. In the movie version, The House will be played by Mickey Rourke, circa 1989.
* Putting in application for house. Whee! Giddy with impulsiveness that is so unlike us, and yet so exhilarating!
* …And realizing shortly thereafter The House is in many ways completely unacceptable. The Anne in this relationship rubs her eyes blearily, kisses $40 processing fee goodbye, and lets go of the dream. Only to find her husband is still writhing on the torrid love affair hook and still going full throttle towards moving into this house. This sexy, somewhat inappropriate, one night stand house.
* Meanwhile, in an office across town, Property Management clerical worker looks at the little checkmarked box next to “please do not contact current landlord” and laughs. Then calls anyway.
* Landlord calls Anne, all weepy: Why are you moving and why didn’t you tell us? What’s going on? Don’t you love us anymore? We love you and the slightly over-market rent payments you make!
* Later that night, Husband calls out name of house during lovemaking.
* Anne suspects that even if they are able to get out of renting this house now, House will call in three months, claim pregnancy, and demand some sort of shed support.
* Later that night, two year old wakes in middle of the night with leg cramps and accompanying wild, panicked screams X5.
* Later still, same child with vomiting X2.
* Middle of the night baths to get vomit out of hair X1.
* Laundry X2.
* Next morning, Anne is able to stop at the last second before accidentally drinking out of a water bottle from which that child has been drinking X3.
* Anne is not able to stop at the last second before accidentally drinking out of a water bottle from which that child has been drinking X1.
* Visit to meet new OBGYN leads to uncomfortable confrontation in which OB scares the shit out of Anne by saying the amoxicillin Anne took at week 5 for a sinus infection is probably more of a dangerous class C drug than the topical steroid OB Rxs (but Anne refuses) for uncomfortable facial dryness. And anyway the doctor herself took that topical steroid when she was pregnant, why was Anne being so paranoid?
(Which (to stop talking in third person for a minute here) made me feel awful about taking the amoxicillin and also like some uneducated backwoods hick who was going to birth mah babee out in some field for not trusting modern medicine.)
( But then I got home and googled it. Amoxicllin is a class B drug (presumed safe) and the topical steroid is a class C (some question as to safety) and included possible side effects like growth retardation. So not only was the doctor an asshole, but she was an inaccurate asshole.)
(So now I’m on the fence about whether I can just avoid her for the rest of my pregnancy or if I should go to the hassle and risk the ‘bad patient’ label and find another doc in our tiny, tiny town.)
(Also, I want to know if her kids are unusually small.)
I think that’s pretty much it. On the other hand, it’s been less than 48 hours. Since I’m trying to focus on the positive during all of this, I’ll tell you that the corpse in the dream was Claire Fisher from Six Feet Under, and although she had some big purple mold spots on her limbs, I was actually pretty confident we could bring her back to the land of the living. So whoo-hooo! Staying on the positive side. On the other hand, in the dream I thought she was kind of hot, which completely icks me out because I’m only marginally comfortable with getting my gay fantasy on, but super uncomfortable that I thought something in a body bag was attractive.
26 Responses to “What’s New, Annie-Cat?”
#$*@(#%^*% Doctors. There’s no expletive foul enough for most of them.
What would we do without your brain?
Doctors don’t know jack-poo about prescription drugs. Anytime you are given a prescription, if you have questions go and speak to the pharmacist. He went to school to get a degree in DRUGS. The doctors just wing it most of the time.
I wish my brain could use bullet points.
Don’t you just love those whacked pregnancy dreams? That was a good one btw. Wow…
I would be soooo mad at the dr. for scaring you like that. Ugh…
somehow real life always ends up scarier than that nightmare stuff.
go figure.
I have something that I’d like to you read if you have some time. (This sounds weirder than it is I swear) I need you to email me so that I may invite you. PlzKthxbai.
Pregnancy dreams are awesome. And about 99% of them are embarrassingly horny, I find.
Wow on the dream… just wow. And I agree with Erica, most pregnancy dreams come with a hefty serving of “turned on” no matter the actual dream content. You do not have to take responsibility for any homosexual or necrophiliac overtones in that last one. That’s what THIS pregnant lady is gonna go with innywho, else how can I live with mah funky-horny dream self.
Sorry about that slutty little rental.
Huh… comment moderation?
I would look for another doctor. Because are you ever going to be comfortable with her advice? If you KNOW she told you something that is certifiably wrong?
Yeah there’s definitely a difference between same-sex attraction and attraction to the dead of the same sex.
LOL Miss Grace – Mine was poorly worded. In the dream I only reminisced that she was hot alive. Still disturbing to have hot thoughts about something in a body bag.
Anne
You’ve got some serious hormones racing through your body!
House, no house? What happened???? I hate moving.
OMG, I love you. Thanks for my daily dose, and on another note, sorry for the asshole doc, the crazyass dream of Claire Fisher (although I really miss that show) and the house will happen if you really want it to and if its meant to, I think.
Love those Efed up pregnancy dreams. I got some great looks from hubby when I would tell him about my dreams.
Are you moving into the house? Are you vomitting?
If I told you what I dreamed when I was pregnant, you totally wouldn’t be my internet BFF anymore.
Of course you thought she was hot…..you loved the house.
I too thought you were having necrophilia dreams
I had cramping during early pregnancy because of fibroids. I held out as long as I could then called the doc who prescribed Ibuprofin.
On a follow up appointment, doc wasn’t available so I saw another in the practice. She looks at the file and says, “you should not have been prescribed Ibuprofin. Did he go over the risks and potential complications?” Umm, no, no he didn’t.
Talk about being scared! I felt like an idiot thinking I should have known to ask but being doubled over in pain and scared for the baby kinda clouded my judgment at the time.
Are you moving?
I’ve been away from you for far too long- I didn’t know you were pregnant. Belated congratulations!
If it makes you feel any better about the dream, I have dreams that are at least that weird every night…
Threatening to move is a good way to get your rent reduced, you know.
PS- I’m reading “No Country for Old Men” (haven’t seen the movie) and I just keep picturing Baby J with that weird hair-do. It’s not a funny book, but I keep laughing, and then people look at me funny.
I’ve been mourning the fact that my duckling still doesn’t have a strand of hair at 7 months, but after reading about washing vomit out of your daughter’s hair in the middle of the night, I’m hoping she stays bald for a while longer. Like maybe until a week after her 21st birthday.
Last night I dreamed I had plastic surgery, because we had watched Dr. 90210, and I had these great big perky breasts. And was at a function for work where people were doing some kind of charity run, and all I could talk about was my plastic surgery. And I kept flirting with a co-worker who looked at me weird, like I was flirting really poorly or he was grossed out by my flirting.
Dreams are weird.
[...] didn’t get the one-night-stand house. Oh bittersweet romance, so quickly [...]
If it makes you feel better, I think the actress who played Claire Fisher is SOOOO beautiful.
That whole thing about the antibiotics and steroids scared the poo out of me. I just wanted you to know that. I’ve had two nasty sinus infections since getting knocked up, and I’ve Googled the Amoxicillan myself. For a minute there, you had me thinking my Googling skills sucked (and that would be terrifying to consider, since I rock at Google) AND that my next kid would be born with two heads. Find a new doctor. Definitely find a new doctor.