Handy-Man and his Dream

Hey folks!

We had a sales meeting today, and I was a little unprepared. I hadn't talked to my boss about the e-mail blast I had designed and so I hadn't yet gotten approval. Unfortunately, that would have been the only thing that I could have shown progress on. So that was a tad embarrassing. I did get approval after the meeting however, and thus eased my aching conscience.

In other news, we removed all of the trim boards from the outside of our house that were afflicted with wood rot, replaced them, and re-caulked the whole she-bang. We also found some folding doors for our closet at the Habitat for Humanity store. After some cleaning and fiddling with the adjustments, we now have fully-functioning doors to hide the mess of our closets! So now I feel handy like Bob Vila and a little manly to boot.

I've also been having strange dreams lately. One from the night before last will probably turn into a short story. Last night's was horrific:

-Disclaimer: This dream was pretty violent. Read at your own risk!

I was walking along the gloomy streets in some urban locale at twilight on a heavily cloudy day. The streets were cobble-stone giving the streets a look reminiscent of the tails of giant lizards. The buildings seemed old and I knew that they were all empty. I wandered into an alley and up some rickety stairs into a dark home. I was looking for something, but I cannot recall what.

The interior was gloomy and the only light came from a few windows and cracks in the walls of the building. I walked down a hallway and ended up in a kitchen. It was a dead-end so I turned around.

As I turned, I felt someone run into me. They grabbed me and pain shot through my right side. He was stabbing me! I pushed him back and turned to face him. He was a little taller than me -- about 6 feet or so -- with white-blond hair and vicious eyes. He was holding a long kitchen knife and looked like a predator who was enjoying dragging out the kill.

I tried to find something to fight him, but all I could find was a butter knife. My side hurt more than I'd ever experienced before.

It felt real. My side hurt for real. I'd been stabbed... for real!

The pain nauseated me. My guts felt like quivering jelly and my limbs began to feel weak. I tried to get past him and he stabbed me again in my left side. I feinted to the left and pushed him hard into the counter. I ran to the right around him and sprinted down the hallway back to the door.

When I arrived back outside, I ran into my Dad. He wanted to go inside and explore. I tried to keep him away and show him my wounds, but he just kept smiling and insisting that we go in and explore. Unaware of the danger, he pushed past me. I heard a noise and I knew that the predatory man -- the raptor -- had killed my Dad.

Devastated and no longer concerned for my well-being, consumed with rage and grief, I rushed in to kill the raptor man. As I went through the door, I woke to the remnants of pain and nausea. My side still felt the blade in each place I was stabbed while dreaming. Never before have I had a dream, a nightmare, so vivid and disturbing. Never before have I felt the effects of events in my dreams beyond waking. It was so disturbingly real that I had to share it with someone.

Lucky you.