me, disguised as a tangerine bearded iris.
i had what i like to call ‘pizza dreams’ last night. “get out!!!” i shouted as i sat up in bed at 1 a.m. waking dramatically from a deep sleep, the back of my head and neck wet with sweat. sitting there for a moment trying to remember what had happened in my dream (someone/something had been trying to break through our double front doors — before we replaced the solid wood doors with glass ones — as i was gathering puppies and running down the hall to the bedroom, shouting) what the hell? i attribute it to the pizza i had made last night with roast chicken, avocado, tomato, and a liberal layer of shaved parmesan. do you have dreams that you can associate with the food you ate the evening before? i wouldn’t ask, but it’s almost a ritual with me dreaming a certain kind of vivid dream having eaten a pizza a few hours beforehand. <sigh> the dreams have not kept me from eating pizza and probably won’t, although at the moment of the dreams recently i’ve found myself thinking that maybe i shouldn’t indulge in this particular meal any longer, but i never think that when i’m making one. it must be selective amnesia.
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