I realize that almost no one enjoys hearing about someone else’s dreams. But, in my defense, anything else I would have to tell you today would be boring beyond belief. Not that this dream is entertaining, or even long enough to be considered a story. But it’s better than, “last night we packed up our kitchen.”

Over the weekend, I had a dream that I was pregnant. [Editor’s first note: No, I am not pregnant. No, it is not possible. Promise. No, I do not want to be pregnant at this moment. Stop asking.] Very pregnant, actually. Like 8 months pregnant. [Editor’s second note: I knew this in the dream way of knowing things; that’s just how it was.] However, I had almost no belly whatsoever. [Editor’s third note: Mostly like my current belly, which is squishier than it should be but would almost certainly not be considered a “bump” of any sort.] I was a bit concerned about this, and was pretty sure that something had gone horribly wrong with the baby.

And that was it.

Oh, did you want more?

A while back my car (in real life) started to make a noise. I’ll spare you the very non-descript, non-specific description of the noise, but suffice it to say, it was weird. We decided that I should take the car in (no, I haven’t had time for this yet – I’ve been a little busy). I had a dream where I took said car in to the repair shop, and the problem with the car, according to the repair man, was the bumper. [Editor’s fourth note: there is no way that this noise could actually be caused by the bumper, proving yet again that even in my dreams I know nothing about cars.] I don’t remember whether or not I believed him.

In non-dream news, tonight and tomorrow night are the last classes I have to go to for four months! And 48 hours from now, we’ll be busy signing crap-tons of documents selling away our house (and then 3 hours after that, signing crap-tons of documents buying the new one, fingers crossed). Nothing can be made in the kitchen anymore except hot water or meals involving the microwave. Oh, and cereal. There has been further drama with the washing machine replacement parts that is so unbelievably worth of “WTF?” and I won’t put you through it. Also, the filter in our water filtration system needs to be replaced. The light went on yesterday. Of course it did.

6 Replies to “Bump”

  1. Kelly,
    1. I find dreams kind of interesting. (You’re a nerd too so don’t start…)
    2. Pregnancy dreams don’t mean you’re with child. It’s a metaphor for having something new in your life. (Possibly a house?) Pregnancy dreams means something new is coming. Dreams with babies and little kids can be about some new thing that has already started, usually about the time the dream kid would have been born. Little baby dreams are my favorite. Except when the kids aren’t shaped like human beings.
    3. How much longer is it actually your car? Hope everything is ok with it.
    4. I don’t know, I just like the number 4.
    See you Friday,

  2. Liz-
    I know pregnancy dreams don’t have anything to do with being pregnant. But, since every time I’m near a baby, mention a baby, or … have indigestion, someone suggests that perhaps I am pregnant, should become pregnant, or definitely want to be pregnant, I felt it was important to stress that, in fact, I am not. It’s getting a little old. (Go on, I dare you to ask me if I’m pregnant, or demand that I provide you with a baby. Try me.)

    The car is ours… forever, I think. There was an email that led us to believe that, though we still aren’t entirely sure that’s what it meant. Its previous owners are coming home this summer for a visit, but are then returning overseas, so… at least for a while longer.

    See you Friday! I’m putting you in charge of the fish.

    1. Totally cool with that. We’re working on trying to find a new home for the plecostamus anyways, so if he bites it (which he won’t, the beast), no one will cry. We have enough fish (8 + the pleco) that they don’t have names. I’ll point you in the direction of what I have in mind. It’s all good.

  3. 1) I think you’ve been secretly pregnant for years now.

    2) I think you like it.

    3) I don’t have a 3, I just like the number 3.

    4) Liz is weird for liking the number 4, the Japanese word for 4 is the same as death. What does that mean?

    1. Clearly, I am not pregnant. Once a month my uterus loudly lets me know that. Promise.

      No, I do not like everyone thinking that I’m pregnant, wanting me to be pregnant, demanding that I get pregnant, or proposing that I’m ready to be pregnant. In fact, it really, really annoys me.

      Lastly, both you and Liz are big dorks. That is all.

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