We are supposed to be below zero (day and night) until saturday. *shivers* So I am wearing warm fuzzy pants, thick fuzzy socks and a warm fuzzy zip-up top. I just turned the thermostat up (don't tell Mr Swami.) So I'm cold - but very, very comfy.
Remember last week when I said I had started having non-stop, cast-of-thousands dreams every night and I didn't know what they meant? Well, last night I got a narrator. He sounds like the guy who narrated The Ten Commandments and all those old Cecil B deMille movies. At first I was happy because the narrator kept telling me what everything meant, but eventually I hated the self-righteous, know-it-all prick. They're my dreams, dammit, and *I* get to decide what they mean! Or if they mean.
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7 comments:
lmao at you - you're being pissy with you're own narrating self *snort
brrrr - I think I would stay in bed with an electric blanket!
I bet it was Alex Trebeck. He's like that.
*I* was not the narrator! Dream guy was! My narration would have been much more succinct, funny & helpful. Dream narrator was not at all helpful. Plus he was a guy and I (hello) am a girl.
Thursday our high is supposed to be 28. I turned the heat up today too. And turned on the fireplace. Don't tell Mr. Boo, then he'll think he's allowed to do that.
Your narrator sounds like the man who used to stand at the foot of the bed at our old house.
Was the narrator James Earl Jones?
We're having a heat wave, it's been in the 80's.
*clears throat - brings dream analyzer persona to the fore
My dear Swami - narrator guy is your analytical self. I can't help it if your analytical self is a not so humorous man.
*note - I am in no way a psychologist or dream therapist therefore everything I wrote above is just a bunch of horseshit :)
I keep telling Michelle that I'm thinking about you and that cold ass weather. *smooch*
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