Sweet Dreams

Last night I dreamt that Ross and I lived in the house I grew up in and my old HS teacher, Mr Wilson, was over to see the baby. Ross and I went upstairs to get the baby and when we looked into the crib Fizzgig was in there. Ross started wrapping Fizz up in a blanket and I started freaking out, I said, “What are you doing?! That is not a baby, that is Fizzgig!” and Ross said, “No, this is our baby.” I was so embarressed because I knew Mr. Wilson would know Fizz was a cat, not a baby, and Ross was just so certain that what he was holding was indeed a child. It was so weird, I am tired of weird dreams. I have these kinds often, but the baby will be a doll, or non-existent and I am just freaking out the whole time. How much more of this am I expected to take and remain sane?

Sweet Dreams

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