Justin and I went on an 8-mile bike ride on Sunday! For him, this was nothing, but for me, it was the first time I have done anything remotely like working out (well, unless you count the occasional DDR, Wii Fit ski slalom, or dance workout video) since... umm... last April? So you'd think I would sleep soundly after that.
However, I woke up 4 times in the night, and one time, I had this truly horrifying dream:
I go over to Justin's house (which of course looks nothing like his real house; thank goodness, otherwise I might be afraid to enter his house ever again). He tells me that Snookie (his dog, in case you missed that when I mentioned her) has a butt problem. She has been pooping too much and has a sore butt and hemorrhoids or something similar (I am not kidding...) so I'm like "aww, that sucks for her, you should keep an eye on it and take her to the vet in a few days." Thus begins the terrifying part... He responds, "no, it's not worth it, I am just going to have to shoot her." I'm like "ummm, that's kind of crazy, and totally extreme, are you kidding?" though I'm a little freaked out at this point. It turns out, though, that he's all too serious. "No, it has to be done." His mom solemnly agrees... "yes, unfortunately, it has to be done." So he pets her one last time, then takes her out in the yard to shoot her, with his mom watching. I waver in the doorway, trying to decide whether I want to watch, in that way in which you can't tear your eyes away from terrible things. But I stay there in the doorway and he is standing between me and Snookie. I hear him shoot her in the head. Even worse? His mom brings her dead body into the kitchen to "dispose of it" so I get to see her bloody head. Then there are drips of blood throughout the kitchen even after she bags the body and I keep accidentally stepping in/touching them. As a nice epilogue, I start wondering why he thought this condition was so severe that it was not worth keeping her alive, as I am suffering from something similar... I begin to wonder if he thinks that about me...
Thankfully Jazz was in bed with me so I did not have to wake up alone...
And my interpretation:
This was definitely inspired by 2 things:
1) watching cow bodies be disposed of on Dirty Jobs the other night.
2) a few months ago, I asked TH to put me out of my misery and shoot me if my illness reaches the 1-year mark (May 22). He agreed. Though it was in a joking manner, I couldn't help but shudder inside at the thought that we might both be partially serious... I think my subconscious does not want this to happen.
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