Am I Going Psycho?

First it was the porn George dream.


Then, last Thursday evening I fall asleep on the couch and start dreaming that the cat tipped over a big bottle of maple syrup. In my dream, I see it running all over my carpet but I can’t get to it. I tried and tried to call one of the kids to catch it before I spread too far but I couldn’t remember their names.

I then woke up, sat up really fast, pointed to my son sitting in the chair doing homework, and just kept saying “you, you, you” as I shook my finger at him. I was still panicked from the dream but couldn’t remember why I was so freaked out. He thought it was funny as shit.


Me and my friend had to run into work this morning for a few hours. We decided to be there extra early so we could finish up everything and come home. I told her that I would pick her up at 5:30 a.m.

Last night a storm made our power blink off and on. I reset my alarm clock and went to bed. No big deal.

This morning the alarm went off and I lay in bed thinking how bad it sucked getting up that early and how much I would love to sleep for a few minutes longer, but I forced myself up anyway.

I got ready and drove down the street to pick her up. I thought it was a little strange that her lights were off and then when she came outside in her jammies I figured that she didn’t reset her alarm after the power outage.

She walks to the car and says, “What the hell you doing here at this hour?” I say, “Hel-looooooooooooooooo. . . . Did you forget we were running into work?”

She says, “Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh. . . but at five, thirrrrrrrrrrrty.”

I meekly ask, “What time is it?”

“It is only 4:30, ya dumbass.”

“Son-of-a-bitch! You mean to tell me I am here an hour early?”

It was about this time that I began to vaguely remember waking up in the middle of the night thinking, for some God-awful reason, that I better set my alarm an hour early because of the earlier power-blink.

Hey, it made perfect sense in my sleep.

I didn’t look at my alarm clock when it went off, I simply reached over and turned it off. However, I did look at the clock in the bathroom but I must have only looked at the minute hand.

I went home and dinked around for an hour - an hour that I could have enjoyed sleeping!

I have to pay her some big $$$ to bribe her not to tell anyone at work. She thought it was damn funny, I thought it sucked.

Going psycho? No.

Making me laugh? Hell yeah!

‘Going’ psycho?

::Dodging::

OW! OW! OW! JOKE! JOKE! JOKE!

ok, this is a little off topic, but…

I woke up Friday morning, around 1:45, with pain across the bottom of my ribs. It was getting progressively worse, and I was having trouble breathing. I drove myself to the hospital, where they eventually decided that I have pneumonia.

My wife and I recently split up, and my daughters were at her place that night. The 7-year-old, who occasionally walks in her sleep, came and woke up my wife at 2:00. She just wanted to tell her “not to worry, Dad is going to be ok.”

Now, I realize that this is nowhere near as frightening as a naked George Costanza. But it is a litte weird, no?

sh