I dreamed that Twilight was a story about a fat middle-aged vampire who repeatedly kidnapped a teenage girl and a morally disgusted alien who kept taking her back home in his spaceship
I was pretty into it actually, I’d watch that.
Whenever it gets close to mother’s day I always think of the professor of my photography class, who had a strong Italian accent that resulted in her consistently dropping esses from certain plural or possessive English words. The final assignment for the class involved having a book printed of photographs we had taken, and the company we used to print them was affiliated with some greeting card company, which meant that they tended to get overwhelmed when Sentiment Holidays approached. Placing your order too close to mother’s day was pretty much a guarantee that you would fail to get it in time for the deadline, and likewise fail the class. Mother’s day was spoken of the way you’d talk about Ragnarok, and with the same tone and inflection, with just a hint of English-language failure.
"Get your orders in soon," the professor would remind us, daily, as the end of the semester approached. "Don’t forget. Mother Day is coming.”
I don’t THINK so but there was that time when, in the real life, there was a gigantic old computer monitor sitting in the living room and I walked by and idly thought “Who put that computer head in there”
I tried to wake up in the middle of the night to watch the lunar eclipse, but instead the actual light of the actual moon just kept me awake the whole night, vacillating between sleep and consciousness in hour-long intervals while I repeatedly dreamed about being in the house I lived in during college but with an inexplicable impression that I was no longer supposed to be there.
"I’m sorry," I said to the person who appeared to live in the room I thought was mine. "I thought this was my room, but it’s obviously not. Do you know where my room is? Because I don’t. Do I live here? I thought I did but I have a feeling I don’t really."
"Don’t worry," said the girl, who I think was an actual person I knew there for a while. "I know where it is… Or I mean, I think… It’s around here somewhere, I know it is, maybe we’re on the wrong floor-"
"No, no, it’s fine," I told her. "I don’t think I live here, I don’t think this is even real. I’m like ninety percent sure I’m dreaming, here, hold on-" and here I came very close to sticking my finger through the palm of her hand to illustrate, before deciding this would be rude and using my own hand instead. "Yeah, look at that, see? That explains it."
Later, waking up in a room I am quite sure I never lived in, I found a large folded poster that did not belong to me and set about asking everyone in the house if they knew where it had come from.
"Did you put this in there while I was sleeping?" I asked a stranger.
"No," they said. "Maybe it was that robot with the TV for a head."
"Oh, yeah," I said. "Probably was. I don’t know who let that guy in here anyway."