Bizarro dreams lately. In last night’s, I was being held at gunpoint along with a group of people including this really gruff man I’d apparently been involved with in the past, a literary agent (not mine either) and a I’ve already forgotten the other two. But we were in a trailer and at some point, I realized we were making a movie because the agent kept posing. I also apparently wanted a relationship with Mr. Grumpy and he made some comment about a physical only thing because he wanted a kid and all the sudden, I was raging.
Seriously raging–kind of like the zombies in 29 Days Later. This was a small trailer. The movie set kind and I had that thing rocking because my anger was so incredibly intense. I was ripping apart things and yelling about control and everyone was just sitting there calmly. They acted like I’d done this before, but it was obvious they didn’t care in the least.
Stupid alarm woke me up. I hate when that happens. It’s like watching a movie only to have it cut off before you see the end.
Wonder what happened next?
At least this one made a little more sense than the Hot Fuzz and Adipose bizarro dream…
Category: My Writing Life