for years and years and years i have made my living with phones. i have answered them, and i have done telephone surveys, and i have sold them. in real life, the phone and i are not best friends. it's sort of a necessary evil to me, you know? the invention of texting was like a godsend. all of this means that when i have dreams that especially bother me, phones are somehow involved.
take the night before last. i kept getting all these calls from the kid's bio-mom. i was dodging them, making her leave messages, and then deleting them without even listening to them (have you done that in real life? it's like one of the best feelings ever, on par with finally getting to a bathroom when you've been driving for a long time with a full bladder). when we finally did get on the phone together, she yelled at me for all the terrible ways i was raising the girlchild. she was irate and spent a lot of time yelling at me about how awful i was, and what i terrible job i was doing. hooray, for parental anxiety dreams!
then last night i had a dream about my dad. normally i love those dreams, because most of the time they consist of the two of us talking about random stuff and him giving me some sort of advice. granted, a lot of the time the advice is nonsensical, like "make sure to water the plants with juice," but i like talking to him. in last night's somnabulist theater, he wasn't dead, but had merely left my mother and family to run off with some hot, young, latina woman. i only saw the back of her, but she had great hair. i kept trying to call him and only got his voicemail. the messages i left him became progressively angrier and more upset. i was so sad and just wanted him to tell my why he'd left us. i was also upset that he hadn't called me on my birthday. at some point i ended up in an abandoned castle, with a glow in the dark dog keeping watch as i slept. because, you know, dream logic.
resolutions: are we going to make them? any ideas?