Stress dream: thwarted and stifled

Last night I dreamt that I overheard my fiance talking on the phone with a friend, saying hurtful things about me. Basically calling me stupid and saying that he put up with me so he wouldn't have to get out on the dating market.*

I was crushed, but then angered into action. I ran away, and started a new life that was completely centered around me and my own interests. I had a business doing something I loved (I have no idea what it was), enough money to indulge myself a little, and my own home. I was happy, proud, and fulfilled. But for some reason, Ex-Fiance kept on coming back to bring me back into his life and make me give up my own.

It wasn't because he had re-estimated my worth; it was just a need for revenge and control. I kept on running away, hiding, and building myself a new life, and he kept on hunting me down. It escalated until he was an actual demon, and I was using powerful sorcery to try to get away from him, but never succeeding.

I woke up with a roaring migraine, but with a head full of creative ideas. I took 2 Excedrin and went into my office to work--on things I was interested in, for a change. I worked through the pain, and I worked one-handed at times, because 5 foster kittens were jumping all over me for food and attention. Now, a few hours later, I have a business name, logo, and domain. I can have a try at doing something I love. (I still have no idea what it will be.)


* For the record, Fiance is not actually a dream-crushing demon. I proposed to him because he is the opposite of that.

In the interim

Where can I even begin? In the past nine months, I have not only gotten the aforementioned tattoo, I have also:

1. proposed to my boyfriend
2. begun planning a wedding (related to item 1)
3. assisted with the buying of a house
4. packed up 10 years' worth of crap and moved into said house

Those last two were especially draining. It is only by the grace of malt liquor and Velveeta cheese that I am writing a post for this blog again, despite thinking about it all the time. 

I still have to unpack a whole house and construct a wedding. Next month I turn 38, and I have no idea what I'm doing with my life overall. But the interim is interesting.

The chaos before the storm

This is me trying to create a rough draft for my first tattoo. I bet if I had some graphic design training this wouldn't require Sculpey, a disused vase, coins, 2 sketchbooks, paints, markers, and vodka. Note: the plastic cup is not for vodka. It's for rinsing acrylic paint off brushes and collecting my angsty tears. Note note: I made up the bit about the tears. I do cry angsty tears sometimes, but not today. Note note note: The vodka is actually floating in a vanilla Pepsi. I can't recommend it. The cocktail, I mean. Either component is fine by itself.