Hello blog. I didn't forget about you. I've just been feeling blue for quite some time and have had nothing to say that hasn't been depressing or angst-ridden. I think this funk is clearly the result of this miserable winter that will not end. Or maybe it's the recent series of unanticipated events that led to mass destruction within our home or the never-ending list of unfinished tasks at my job and the perpetual feeling of being behind on everything all the damn time. It could be any of these things, but when I feel this way, I have no desire to leave a mark here because being sad is boring. Being boring sucks. Sucking at stuff sucks and I hate sucking at stuff.
Speaking of boring, that reminds me of a dream. Which dream? Like 97% of all my dreams actually. My dreams are excruciatingly boring. I have shared the following dream with a few people, but here's an example of just what I mean by "boring." So, I'm at Cub Foods. There's a sale on tangerines. I know this because there's a sign above the tangerines that says "SALE" with a reduced listed price. I grab some tangerines, throw them in my cart, pick up a few other items and proceed to the register. The cashier rings up my tangerines at full price, which I immediately question and then we proceed to have a cordial debate over the sale sign and whether it's intended for the tangerines or the oranges. Both of us make good points about the applicability of the sale, but I feel I make more compelling arguments about the confusing placement of the sign seemingly equidistant between the tangerines and oranges and that from the angle where I stood when I was in front of the fruit section, it was closer to the tangerines, which also makes me wonder about the real difference between tangerines and oranges...
If anyone completely tuned out for that entire paragraph above to go do something else like floss one's teeth or close the window entirely, I wouldn't blame you in the least. The sad part is that I left out a lot of the finer details like the listed sale price and that the sign was mysteriously suspended above the fruit in mid-air and what I provided above were actually "the highlights." If you loop that sequence of events 39 more times and slow it down so that each time it happens it takes about 15 minutes, you'll have some sense of what it's like to be in my dream state. Seriously. I wake up and wonder why these dreams can't even have something crazy going on off to the side. Like, why can't the cashier be someone famous, hot and naked or why can't there be some circus clowns performing lewd acts on a goat by the popsicles (or with the popsicles)? Something, anything. I know the demented, twisted potential of my mind so these dreams are painfully weak and just unacceptable. Subconscious, throw me a freakin' bone here.
I can't actually remember the last time I had a dream that was even remotely interesting. When I share my dreams with Brent, his typical reaction (if he can even stay with me long enough to endure the lame details) is "Well?!?" and I confirm that actually everything I described above with the orange and tangerine sale confusion was "it." I don't even get full closure for christ's sake. I just keep going back to the miserable tangerine display and throwing a few tangerines in the cart and the same boring sequence repeats itself over and over and over until the alarm goes off and it's time for actual life shit to get real.
I like to think my conscious life is more interesting than how life plays out in my dreams, but lately, life has felt like nothing more than a tangerine sale at the grocery store except all the tangerines are rotten and infested with larvae. When we return from next week's vacation in Mexico, I'm hoping the sunshine will restore my mood and I can resume blogging with some energy and enthusiasm. In the meantime, I'm sort of tired now and I'm craving an orange. I hope there's a good sale tonight.
Sweet dreams and think spring, everyone...
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