MY DREAM ANGEL IS WARNING ME NOT TO KNOCK THE SH*T OUT OF MY HUSBAND!!

MY DREAM ANGEL IS WARNING ME NOT TO KNOCK THE SH*T OUT OF MY HUSBAND!!!

Alrighty people grab some popcorn time to trip out. One would think my dreams are flashbacks from Woodstock doing Acid with Janis Joplin but I was actually still just a teeny weeny widdle baby in the 60’s. I have a totally more innocent theory AND I totally believe this beautiful theory.

See, I believe in God and Angels and they do come into your dreams and konk you on the head with their pixie dust and say, yo’ this is a warning. Well maybe they don’t say yo’, but they do come into your dreams.

So trip out on my dream. Yeah, yeah, it made me jump up at four in the morning boo hooing and writing over a pot of coffee so I could have all my loving WordPress peeps read how my kaleidoscope brain processes. Believe me sometimes it is too much for me!

Ok on to my dream.

My kids were young, I have a son and daughter. We are driving in a red beat up truck and for some reason we are in Tijuana amongst the vast Mexican population. (Don’t throw tomatoes, I am Mexican and besides, you think I don’t know we are not VAST!)

Anyways, my daughter tells me, “Look mommy, daddy could do the rectangle poke and make all his bones poke out cause he is in shape. Of course I ask what that is. So he flexes and I see his hip bone poke out, his shoulder bone poke out, his back bone poke out, AND HIS PENIS POKE OUT!!!

I lose it and start screaming at him, “What is wrong with you gross dog, put your dick away!” He doesn’t but continues to flex his body with all his “bones” poking out and he spats at me, “You are just jealous cause you are not in shape like me you porkster!”

I reach over my kids head and just start slapping the sh*t out of him. Whack! Whack! Whack! Slapping him all over his smug stupid face!

Casually he picks up his phone and calls his boss and says he is going to be late for work because he is going to call the police to charge me for battery. Holy smokes, I look to see if I could jump out of the truck to get away but I realize we are driving through swamps and for some reason I have no shoes, why don’t I have any shoes? He eyes me with this smirk like I got you.

Then all of a sudden we reach a border. I told you we were in Tijuana right, ok just checking. Well we start approaching this border, but it was a different kind of border we are about the cross and my husband looks at the border and then looks at me totally confused. A feeling of serenity sweeps over me and I call for my children to come to me and as they do he starts stuttering like a confused dumb duck. As I take the hands of my children and start to exit the truck I tell my husband, “This is the border where the dream ends David. I only hit you in my dream not in real life. So in real life you can’t press charges on me or put me in jail, because I only did it to you in my dreams.”

So with both my kids I turned away leaving him in his Tijuana red beat up truck and I walked away from him and I could still hear him still stuttering and stammering. I just continued to walk and started to eat some bacon. Yeah, bacon. I don’t know where the bacon came from, must have something to do with him calling me porkster.

There was a long line of women walking away from their men holding the hands of their children leaving their past behind as they crossed the dream border and into reality..

And I woke up

Yeah, yeah I woke up in tears because that is who I am, a crybaby and I believe in messages from my angels. I have been known to get violent too. Not just my husband, but me too, I know I leave those blogs out, how fancy of me huh.

See tomorrow I am supposed to go “alone in a car” with my husband to see a tax specialist and it will be the first time we spend any time together since the break-up. This visit is because he committed tax fraud and my entire pension is at risk of being wiped out. So isn’t that the perfect formula for such:

Me alone in a car with spouse + my pension being wiped out = beat the sh*t out of my spouse!

It doesn’t take a calculator to figure that out. Now you tell me my angels didn’t send me a message. All that ugliness is the past now, it is no longer how I function. I have my children by my side whether they are grown or small. They look upon me to make right choices? I no longer have to react by my emotions like I did in the past, whether it be because of anger seeing him of bad news I get regarding my taxes. I need to keep my emotions at bay. Slowly I am learning…very slowly…

But I am getting there.