Zombie Dreams in the Unapocalypse

I have two recurring dreams.

Zombies and Aliens.

I blame my parents divorce and weekend’s at Dad’s when I was too little to watch horror movies. He loved horror flicks. Almost as much as he loved staying up late, and eating Tony’s pizza smothered in mozzarella.

I grew to love them too. Then, I got old and didn’t like being scared in a movie anymore. Give me a chick flick any day and yet….I still dream in horror? Maybe, I still have a hidden love for it? Is that inherited?

Normally my standard Zombie Dream involves a race to the “safe” place which happens to be a graveyard on a hill. Yeah. I don’t get the logic either. I don’t why it is holy ground, but it is. Ha. My Dad had quite the sense of humor too. And maybe that is from him.

This Zombie Dream was a little different. You either got sick with the flu and that’s it, or you got sick with the flu, and turned into a brain-eating Zombie.

In my dream, I saw many family members rushing to be at the side of their sick child or spouse and I wanted to say, “Noooooo! Don’t do it! You are going to be a Zombie!”

But in the end, I wondered………if one my family got sick with the Zombie Flu……..wouldn’t I be there? Or would I run away and save myself?

Maybe this wasn’t my typical run-for-your-life Zombie Dream. Maybe this one had depth. The meaning of life and family embedded into the flesh of it. It had brains (heh!).

I awoke before finding a safe place. I awoke before the world ended. I awoke before my family was infected and I had to make that decision.

My only explanation for this dream is dealing with the after-math of injuries from the Jeep wreck. It’s been three weeks and the injuries are healing, but the wounds are still fresh in my mind.

Not to mention, I had the most traumatic encounter to date earlier in the week. Here is how it happened………

I woke up. I let the dogs out of their crates. I went to the bedroom door and opened it. The dogs (as they always do) raced ahead to the living room. We have a routine of potty time, then breakfast time, and they get soo, soo, soo very excited about that. Normally, Sydney is getting ready in the bathroom and I wave at her as I walk by the doorway in the hall.

Except, this time, when I waved I felt something under my foot (my bare foot).

It didn’t feel right.

I looked down as it’s head came up and it’s eyes bulged out (because I was stepping on it).

Stepping on a snake – IN THE HALLWAY – of my house! Inside. My house. My safe place. Ahhhhhhhhh!

I really didn’t scream. I just kinda choked and I ran. I left my teen daughter in the bathroom where the snake was headed.

I took the dogs outside, trying to shake the utter terror out of my sight. But I couldn’t (still can’t). When I got back in the house, Sydney was safe in the living room (phew!). The snake was safe(?) in the bathroom. I took one look and knew I couldn’t handle it. I know it’s not that big and all, but still, it can jump.

I had to wake up my injured husband – who is terrified of snakes. Probably more than me, which makes me really glad I stepped on it and not him (sorta).

At that point it was by the tub. Of course I took pictures for my blog to remember this event.

Not only did I survive the apocalypse of 2011, but I survived stepping on a snake in my house.

No wonder I have Zombie Dreams.

To date, I am a paranoid walker. I don’t step anywhere without looking……..I carry a flashlight (my iPhone) at all times, because I don’t want to cross paths with this again ~shudder~.

Jason put our reptile house mate back in the yard…..in hopes it would find another home….hopefully?…it did…..to be continued.

The Truth– Why your New Year’s Resolution failed.

The truth hurts. I am going to give it to you straight. You were suckered my friend. You were blindsided, and betrayed by sweet little girls wearing green outfits with sashes. Sashes with badges and pins. I can practically see them swirling and twirling as a lure.

Those rosy cheeks, those twinkling eyes, and sunlit smiles. You didn’t even know what hit you, did you? One second you were walking into the grocery store – next thing you know – you are back in your car with six boxes of cookies stacked next to you on the passenger seat. You have no idea, right?

Photo by Babble.

The delicious minty goodness of Thin Mints. The mouth numbing madness of Peanut Butter Patties. The oh-so-chewy sweet Samoas. The crunchy Peanut Buttery Sandwiches from heaven. Let’s not even talk about the sugar melting Short Bread, and the fudge fountain of Thanks-A-Lot (yeah, thanks A LOT). Don’t even look for the low fat brands. They aren’t there. Go ahead, bow your head shamefully, and while you’re there wipe the sweat off. Pathetic.

I’ll tell you this. You are two seconds away from breaking your New Year’s resolution. That is, if you’ve made it this far already. Go ahead, open up a box. One won’t hurt. You believe that? I’ll tell you another one. But I think you get my point. Stop shaking and gripping your fists. Those girls got you. They got you.

Don’t try to breathe through it. It’s done. No you can’t take them back!?!? Are you mad? Do you want to DIE? Besides, you’re busted. Go home. Make some coffee or milk. Fight this battle another day. The super hero has left the building. The enemy has landed.

You can run, but you can’t hide. Now that you’ve seen them. You will see them EVERYWHERE. Malls, sidewalks, parks, and even at your office. It’s like those illusion drawings. They appear magically, then there is no erasing them again. You know what they look like. They will come for you. Tempting you, with their sweet faces, and silent begging eyes.

You think shutting your eyes will help? Maybe you won’t see them, but you will hear their musical giggles. Will you please buy some cookies, cookies, cookies? It’s an echo. You are worse off than I thought. You actually believed in resolutions? Huh. Don’t you remember last year? You thought they were starting the sales earlier than ever before. Wasn’t it usually Valentines day? End of January instead – REALLY? And now look at the date. Mid-January! Your suspicions were correct.

You’ve got to tell someone, sure, but who? Who would believe the evil plot is to topple all healthy eating resolutions in one mass swoop? Who would believe those cute girls with their pig tails in green ribbons, skipping along with enough mouth candy to end a starving country’s fast was really behind it all? And not just to make money either, but to spit on our resolutions, and grind them under their little patent shoe feet. They are still laughing aren’t they?

The fact that the sales are starting earlier? It’s just a slap in the face. Little egos getting the best of our addictions. Girl Scout Cookies. Once a year. AFTER NEW YEARS.

The agony!!!

Hey, where did the cookies go? The Peanut Butter Patties?


They are gone. You ate them. Every one. Every crumb. All four rows. Listen to me. Drive away. Drive away now. Drive away as fast as you can. Don’t let them see you this way. Please!! I’m begging.

Don’t get out of the car. Save your dignity. You still have a chance. They can smell weakness. They can smell desperation. Don’t do it!

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