I Hate "What If..."

Wake-up: Did I just dream about The One That Wasn't? Damn...I did. It's the first time he has infiltrated my sleep since, oh, the night I found out he married Violet, the three headed she-creature. Of course, that particular dream involved him falling into a dark hole in the earth, never to emerge again. **Perhaps she is not at all the kind of individual as I've been told...she may be perfectly nice...still, I wish to think of her as a she-creature.

The night before learning of his sudden marriage, I had a dream where he and I were to be married, only I ran away on the day of said weeding...I mean wedding; he had to take to the local news media, begging me to let him know where we should meet for our nuptials. Ironic.

Last night's dream was far more concerning. He invited me to his house...had something he needed to tell me: he wants a baby...and apparently I'm the one to help him with that endeavor.

My uterus hurts.

Stumbling out of bed, I realized the severe lack of sleep (and said dream that may have intoxicated my ovaries) has impacted my ability to function normally--my red toe and bruised knee provide the proof...I swear the door jam came out of nowhere.

Lunch: My phone is an ass. Most days it sits quietly by until Mom or Dad calls...or until bff rings to rant about the Cowboys, brag about his 175 IQ, or talk about his split personality (he doesn't actually have one, although sometimes I could swear he has 937 of them). Today was different. The phone stared at me, mocked me. You know I will ring when you least expect it, right? You'll forget to check the number, like always, and you will not be prepared for what I throw at you. Stupid, insensitive phone.

Still, it stayed quiet, which was quite the opposite of the other night. Amidst everything that has been going on around here, my phone jingled with a message from my living ghost.  It was a simple message with a splash of tease. Since then, nothing. The phone remains blissfully, yet annoyingly silent...like it's hunting its prey--a miniature velociraptor waiting to strike with its ringtones and lob off my ears. 

Night: Not much to report. Very quiet, thank goodness. My parents are doing well, which is a great blessing. I've tucked my phone away in the vein hope that it will find something better to do with its time...like lose all its battery charge.

Hmm. Can't help but wonder why The One That Wasn't dared to wriggle free from she-creature's tentacles to send a message to me...and why now? Hateful curiosity.

Of course, Dad isn't helping. Yesterday's comments are still weighing on my mind.

"Maybe he's not married. What if the messenger got the message wrong?"

Not possible. I don't think it's possible. How could someone be that wrong? What if it's possible?  "I doubt it, Dad."

"You haven't heard it from him, have you? Until then, how do you know?"

Rats. Must raid Mom's DVD closet...yes, an entire area of her closet is devoted to DVDs. Ah! Ever After, Titanic, and You've Got Mail.

"Oh, no, not Titanic," my dad gasped, "you'll snot all over the place."

Lovely.

So, tonight I sit, trying not to contemplate things. I find thinking is highly overrated...kind-of like treadmills. Argh! My knee hurts...stupid door jam. Time for a small bowl of Captain Crunch and a little Pride & Prejudice.

Crud. Dallas Mavericks lost. Rangers are now down two games. Cowboys are...ugh....awful. Maybe I need a slightly bigger bowl of Captain Crunch...and a soda...and some candy corn...then something for my stomach which will undoubtedly flip sideways.