I dreamt that I died three times last night.
I was blown up.
A bomb strapped to me and set off.
I was serving at a restaurant but not the one I work at. I was only half clothed each time I worked but no one seemed to notice.
It was a weekend and a lot of large parties were coming in for brunch and I was training a new worker.
We got really busy and one of the new waiters got very upset. He was a former military man. He had a bomb on him and strapped it to me.
Everyone evacuated the restaurant. Running in a frenzy out as the ticker went 3-2-1…and off. And I died.
Actually, I blinked. I blinked. I didn’t hear a thing. I didn’t feel a thing other than the blink of my eyes.
And they opened up and I saw that I was alone in the same place everyone had left me. On the floor with the bomb attached to me.
The man came back in to strap another bomb to me.
Same thing happened.
Then I woke up naked. But not scared. Not scared at all in my dream and not scared when I woke up.
I went back to sleep and had another dream.
My little brother and I were in my parents’ house. We were making shakes and on my computer. This one I’m on right now, actually.
The shakes we were making were healthy green smoothies.
My little brother saw my dad’s car pull up the driveway. It was nighttime and he saw the headlights. He immediately began to pick everything up and put it away like he was trying to hide it from my dad. I was confused and asked why he was doing all this. He said my dad wouldn’t like it in his house and he didn’t want him to find out.
I hurried and grabbed my laptop and my little brother poured the smoothie mixture out of the blender and down the sink and put his in glass in the fridge.
Then my dad walked in.
Then my boyfriend’s alarm clock woke me up.
Good morning, honey.