Nightmares: Please and No Thank You

Real quick, there’s a few things you need to be aware of….

wolverine was spotted in Michigan. GAH. LITTLE BEAR. GO BLUE!

Room rocked my world and made me feel feels I’m still trying to figure out.

I got to eat breakfast-for-dinner with a beer at 10:30pm at this dope eatums spot (eatums = yum foods) called Home in Los Feliz that has tree fort vibes and rocks a dino-fountain that would make Reptar proud (forgive me, I’ve been on a real Rugrats kick lately). 

Please note the dinosaurs parading around the fountain’s rim.

tommyIf only Home served Reptar cereal too….

Now about those nightmares…

I’ve been having stress dreams and nightmares for the past couple months… just about every night. Let’s chalk this up to my anxiety manifesting itself into my dreamland because despite the fact I’ve been feeling a lot more like myself lately, that bastard needs someplace to slither up into and hide. I won’t drag you too far down that dark dream hole, but it ranges from taking a math test to a spider creature swallowing my family whole. They’re starting to get more lucid, but luckily my dreamland is counteracting that by having me jump through some inception-like hoops. Thanks, but no thanks dreamland. Last night, for example, I was dreaming that my older sister (or Bunny – so I will call her from here on out) was driving me to the airport, but I was devastatingly late for my flight and near a panic-attack. Then I became self aware (a.k.a. lucid dreaming) and I was like yo, Anna, dude, this is a dream. Let’s ditch this joint. So I “woke up” and my brother (Stinky – so we call him – but he’s not actually stinky. He smells just fine.) was driving me, and I was even later. I tried to “wake up” again and my little sister (codename = C Dog) was driving me, and I missed my flight.

Good one dreamland. Good one.

My fake boyfriend/puppet-monkey thinks I need a dream catcher – which is adorable and all together disgusting – but I’m going to go ahead and blame it on my shitty air mattress. I’ve been putting off mattress shopping for months. Yup. Months. Why? Decisions. Decisions. Decisions. I struggle enough trying to decide what color bath mat to buy (seriously it took me an hour at Target one day and heaps of totally irrational, self-aware stress), let alone committing to a sleeping companion for what might as well be a forever-amount of years. Everyone keeps reminding me that I spend 1/3 of my life sleeping, which is cool and all, but now I feel like someone is jumping on my chest shouting DECISION TIME MOTHERFUCKER. You see, those goons, indecision and anxiety, are all cozied up in my brain. So next time your friend is having a hard time ordering at a restaurant or committing to a movie, just remember that anxiety comes in many different colors: indecision being one of them.

I wasn’t super stoked about lying on mattress after mattress interacting with a salesperson while I’m horizontal either. It just sounds disarming. There should be a phobia for having perpendicular conversations. We’ll call it dicularphobia.

BUT, I did it. Yesterday was the day. I bought a mattress (with a 120 day return policy phew).The salesman was delightful: no dicularphobia to be felt. It only took me an astounding thirty minutes to decide too.

Here’s to making progress.

And a big ol’ bear high-five to you too, sir.







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