I don’t even know what to call this post.

Julia woke up at around 3:00 this morning to go to the potty.  I got her back to bed and had just begun to drift back to sleep when she started calling for me frantically.  I got out of bed and went to her room and asked what was wrong.  She said the bee was stinging her.

She’s had several dreams either of Alex pinching her or of a bee (or bees) stinging her.  I’m not sure why.  I mean, sure, her big brother might pinch her, and sure, a bee might sting her.  But every night, almost?  What’s that all about?  I’m thinking either she’s maybe getting her hair caught on something and when it tugs against her head it feels – to her sleeping mind – like a pinch or a sting.  Or, the ghost that used to inhabit the home of a coworker of mine has moved into my neighborhood.  That ghost used to pinch or hit the youngest daughter in her crib.  Who knows.

All I know is, I’m really really tired right now.  I brought Julia into bed with us, and she dozed off.  Tried to bring her back to her own bed – nope.  Not gonna work.  "The bee will sting me!"  Julia, there are NO BEES IN YOUR BED!  Of course, I hesitate to say stuff like that because if I do, for sure there will come a day when a bee will sting Julia in her crib, and my mom cred will drop like concrete in a river.

So, Julia ended up staying in bed with us until around 6 this morning.  That meant that she, my husband, and the cat all slept soundly and I perched on the edge of the bed, shivering (there was a breeze) and awake for most of the early morning.  I thought about just getting up and writing or something, but I was stubbornly clinging to the idea that since it was still dark outside, I should get to sleep.

I had weird dreams.  I remember this one in particular:

I was somewhere – (really sets the scene, huh?) probably with my family somewhere – and the phone rang.  Now…I don’t want to talk about my job, really, but it’s kind of relevant so I’ll dance around the details to the best of my ability.  Part of my job is to handle after-hours emergency calls.  I have my work cell phone for that.  I cover these calls every other week.  Over time, I have grown to hate the sound of that phone with a passion.  And a dread.  And resentment.  I’m so tired of it intruding on my personal time.  My stomach knots up and my mood darkens instantly when I hear that thing ring.

So – in my dream, I took the call and told the woman on the other end that I would check into the situation and get back to her.  And then when I got off the phone (in the dream) I realized that she hadn’t called me on my work phone – she’d called me on my own personal cell.  How did she get my cell number???  When people call the after-hours number, they’re not calling specifically to talk to ME – it could be someone else.  It’s just – that’s the number to call.  And here she was, this rather snooty sounding woman, calling me on my own cell phone.  On my own time.  And I was pissed.  Forget dealing with her "emergency" (oh, and a good portion of the time, people don’t really know what "emergency" means in terms of this job that I do.  I get unnecessary calls aplenty.) Anyway, I had to find out how she got my number.  And then – like it is in dreams – there she was.  We were in some big covered space, like a really big tent you’d see at a fair, where they’d put the tables and chairs if it was raining out.  But this space was empty.  Just her and me.  And she wouldn’t tell me.  Wouldn’t tell me where she got my phone number.  And she looked all smug and "if you don’t know I’m not going to tell you" about it too.  And in the dream, her slightly pursed, clamped-shut mouth began to move forward from her face (okay, I’m not describing this well) – her face sort of elongated – she took on a more rodent-like appearance.  With her short gray hair and wrinkles.  And the smug mean look in her eyes.

And that was the dream.  I never got an answer from her – the scene shifted, the channel changed, and that part of things was gone.

Of course, it doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.  The whole "intrusion on my personal time" thing.  I resent it.  I’m tired of it.  It’s not worth it to me any more.

So much going on in my head lately.  I’m not surprised that I had this dream.

I just wish I didn’t have to be clinging to the edge of my bed and shivering while I had it. 

Although, maybe, maybe that’s apropo as well.

I’ll talk to you later.  Gotta go to work soon.

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