I've not been having my best week. Gout is making life incredibly painful. I was considering going to the doctor, and then, this morning, we got up to find someone broke into our van during the night and, OF ALL THINGS, stole the remote to our malfunctioning car alarm. This means we cannot start the car because the alarm will go off. Sigh. That was a complication we didn't need in our lives.
Last night, in the hopes of getting an entire night's sleep without waking to cry because my foot was soaking in broken glass and molten lava, I took some medication so I would really, really, really sleep well and it worked great. I slept the night through for the first time since this started.
However, a good portion of my sleep was spent in a long, complex, detailed dream. And really, it was a painful experience. Not about my foot. Not a nightmare. No, this one started with my visiting my parents. We laughed and talked and had fun and it was so wonderful because I miss them so damn much. And then, because that wasn't enough emotional turmoil for one night apparently, in the dream my Mom called Jasmine and we were all invited over there. (I love how thousands of miles disappears in dreams. My parents, in the dream were in Florida. LONG way to Oregon.) We did, and we had the best time. Everyone was happy. Everyone got along. We were just a family enjoying each other. In this dream, I got to hug my parents and my oldest daughter, something I haven't done in years and years. I can still feel them in my arms.
Nope, not my best week.