Wednesday,
March 10, 2004
My subconscious obviously hates me
Either
that, or I should never eat orange chicken before bedtime, because it gives
me some really nasty dreams.
I dreamed that Lyndon and I had met a mutual friend at some sort of country house for a weekend holiday. The house was full of gamers and folks in their 20's, and everyone was having a lot of fun. I was in the middle of doing something when Lyndon told me quite calmly that he wanted a divorce -- he'd met someone else (short, slender and elfin -- the bitch) and wanted to be with her. He then topped it off with the info that he'd gotten another job (with Ericsson again, of all corps), and walked off, leaving me stunned.
After breaking down in hysterics and having the mutual friend try and calm me down, I tracked Lyndon down in a big living room, where they were trying to organize a LARP. He gave me this irritated look and shook his head at me when I said we needed to talk, and then someone in the room giggled at me. It was the elfin bitch, I think, and I realized that I was wearing this grotty old nightgown and I looked a fright.
I stormed out of there and went back to my room to pack, only to find that my friend Terry from Montreal was there, and was busy transferring records of Torcon to my laptop so I couldn't leave until he was finished. I screamed at him not to touch my bloody computer without my permission, and headed off to pour my heart out to the owner of the house (who looked a lot like Amanda Donohue, for some reason). She told me that I'd contributed in part to the breakup by serving the wrong food (gyros pie, to be exact -- I have no idea what that means) but that the bulk of it was Lyndon's choice and I'd just have to live with it.
Now extremely pissed off, I left her rooms and decided, screw it, I was just getting in the car and leaving because it hurt too much to stay there any longer. Naturally, that was the point where I woke up, turned over and woke Lyndon up, and tearfully demanded a cuddle.ÊHe complied sleepily, assuring me that if he ever left me he'd die, and I felt somewhat better, and this evening he's been extremely sweet and solicitious. I know where it came from, of course -- it's basically an anxiety dream about him possibly going away for this contract job. And when I described my replacement to him, he said that she was what I'd built up in my mind as his dream girl (brown-eyed, slim, short dark hair, Vulcanoid cheekbones) based on comments he'd made long before we were married. "Of course, what I have now is so much better," he said.
Awwwww. Imagine
me with a huge grin on my face. But my God, talk about a horrible way
to start off the day. Oh, and I did tell him this morning that if he ever left
me I'd kill him. He murmured, "That's nice, dear," and went back to
sleep. We know each other so well.