Monday night’s dream, while not being particularly prophetic or deep, was amazing. I was stuck at the back of a queue in Woolworths (the long snaky one) staring at all the impulse-buy items. They had tasters on display of EVERY DIFFERENT CHOCOLATE! And not just little bits, but bowls and bowls of lindor and cote d’or and so on. I felt like I ate chocolate for an entire night. It was incredible. I woke up and basically broke down the door to go to gym because I was sure I had managed to pack on the weight of an entire Backstreet Boy overnight (that being said, you can’t put on weight from dream chocolate, right? Right?)
Last night’s dream was, ok a little disturbing (since it featured Bob Kelso and a Nag(?)) but also strangely comforting. I had possibly the most vivid dream about having a baby. Of course, my mind clearly thinks how it wishes it would be, because in my dream labour wasn’t some excruciating ordeal. Rather, they put me under anesthetic and when I woke up a soft little bundle in a blue blanket was placed in my arms. (I have no desire for a sweaty, painful experience and then a screaming little gremlin covered in placenta).
It was the cutest thing I have ever touched. He was so soft ( I called him Joshua) with tiny little eyes and tiny little fingers. If I close my eyes I can still smell his soft baby skin and the non-existent little hairs tickling my nose. So apparently I am so broody that not only do I basically want to snatch every women’s baby that I see on the street, now I am dreaming about having them and holding them. Naturally I would have to change my whole lifestyle, but, and here's the kicker, I wouldn't mind!
I sincerely hope the boy doesn’t read this, because I’m pretty sure one of the “Rules” for catching a man is not to give any inkling that you want to breed a little farmhouse full of children. Well, tough. Denying it is not going to change my craving for a baby.
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