My subconscious is a bitch.

I think I’ve said it here before, but my dreams are weird. Not like normal people weird, and I realize that everyone thinks their dreams are weird. I’m talking very strange but vivid dreams that I remember perfectly; I can draw you maps of places I’ve been only once in a dream, and they are chock full of what the actual HELL. My dream life is very active and usually awesome.

And my dream self is a snarky bitch, sometimes.

In my dream last night, my attempts to take a nap were repeatedly thwarted, by random children deciding they wanted to cuddle with me (what the hell, dream children, I do not like you), or trying to figure out where all the kittens were, or a jerk guy coming in to play Super Mario Brothers on the television next to my bed. I gave up and went to the other room to sleep, my grandfather’s room in a house that no longer exists, and my older brother Gecko followed me in there to tuck me in. He asked me a question, and when I replied I kind of stumbled over the words, like a stutter.

Gecko being Gecko, he immediately made fun of me and repeated my babble.

“What are you going to do if it turns out that’s the first time ALS has affected my speech,” I asked him. “You’re gonna feel like such an asshole.”

And he looked aghast for a second, and then realized I was just being a bitch and flipped me off. I woke myself up laughing.

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