Sometimes I wonder if anyone loves me. Then the cat comes in my room while I’m on my computer and puts her stinky cat poo-hole in my face while whipping my head with her fluffy black tail, and suddenly I understand true love.
But that’s not the purpose of this post. I’m not here to tell you the meaning of true love; I’m not even going to tell you how to find it. That’s not what I’m about. If you’re looking for relationship advice, you will not find it here.
Actually, I began writing this post with absolutely no idea about what I would write. Over on the Daily Post today, the topic suggestion du jour is to write about my dream vacation. However, it’s been so long since I’ve had a vacation that I don’t know what would really make me happy. In fact, I used to look forward to trips to Universal, but Peter and I had to cancel our annual passes when we turned poor, and tickets are too expensive.
So instead I’m going to write about the crazy dream I had last night, because what’s better than sitting around with some friends and telling them about the dream you had where your boobs fell off and you had to find the person who found them?
Yes. That’s really what my dream was about last night.
I don’t know where this crap comes from. Sometimes I have normal dreams about zombies and werewolves and unicorns, and all three of those creatures have teamed up and they’re killing everyone and everything that stands in the way of their world domination.
I actually prefer those dreams to the ones where it’s semi-realistic and I’m in a difficult position or faced with a tough situation. In one recent dream, I was driving away from something and I could sense it behind me, but I couldn’t see it in my rear view mirror. That was the entire dream: me driving away from something I couldn’t see while horrible hair metal played on the radio.
In reality, I just had a really frustrating day and I wish it would stop. Someone tell me a joke and make me laugh. Or send me an e-card to show me how much you really love me.
Just don’t stick a smelly cat anus in my face and expect me to be your love servant forever and ever.
One last thing before I end this really horrific, rambling post: my roommate’s cat, Jessi, AKA The Loaf, has never liked me before. Now she suddenly wants all my pets. I can’t move without her trying to put her head under my hand. Even now, as I type this, she keeps trying to worm her head between my right hand and the keyboard so I’ll pet her.
This post isn’t good enough to publish, but I’m going to do it anyways because I promised myself I would write a post every day and this is as good as it’s going to get while I’m in this mood.