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Last night I had a dream that Angelina Jolie was my SIL.

She was pregnant, and alternated between being extremely down to earth (buying hair dye and silly makeup so we could give each other makeovers) and total diva (wearing sunglasses indoors [because as every superhero has shown us, covering your *eyes* makes you totally unrecognizable], lying down in the booth of the restaurant in a ridiculously inappropriate dress for a pregnant mom, but girl does have some nice gams).

I woke up with my feelings toward her unchanged: I kind of want to just punch her in the face but I can’t articulate why.

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It’s the first day of my last year in college. Only my classmates are not only college friends but also people from my various jobs since college. We’re moving into the dorm, old friends reconnecting after a summer apart and feeling the nervous excitement and anticipation of new beginnings in a new year. In looking for our names to see which room we’ve been assigned, I have trouble finding mine. Everyone else is accounted for and I’m still walking up and down the hall before I finally see my name at the end of the hall, over a mail slot. The RA does some investigating and determines it is, indeed, my room, and when she proceeds to open the room, suddenly we see a lock and outline of a door. The room ends up being incredibly large – a large sitting area/living room, a small galley kitchen (!) and a decent-sized bedroom. The living room looks like a storage space – there are several couches and old chairs. Most are dilapidated but there is one gorgeous retro blue velvet couch. There are also several rows of chairs set up like stadium seating, facing toward the wall of the room that is clearly supposed to be the focal point of the room. There is a huge couch/futon set up at that wall as if it’s the stage of a play. I find that most of my classes are not the ones I need in order to graduate. My advisor is unavailable, so I just start going to classes. My friends and I are still in choir together, and when we line up in our places, our choir leader comes in and stands in the front of the class and he is as tall as Gandalf.
I woke up angry at my mother because my dreams of her completely rearranging my kitchen (the kitchen that SHE originally organized when I moved in here 4 years ago), of her loading and unloading my dishwasher the wrong way, and of her deciding that we no longer need a bed frame or box spring and getting rid of both so our mattress was on the floor WERE SO REAL.

Think my mom’s been cleaning too much while she’s here?

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zooaskew[at]gmail[dot]com
October 2017
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