What, cupcakes don’t talk to you, too?
So, we had a death in the “family” yesterday. I use air quotes because of the lack of blood relation, but the connection was real.
For once I will respect people’s privacy and NOT post about it. But I will say that the air is a little heavier today, and smiles are harder to come by.
Speaking of death, I dreamed last night that I died. And it was awesome.
No, I didn’t see any great white light or anything. But I felt so FREE. Like, all the bullshit isn’t my problem anymore. It’s somebody else’s mess to clean up now. I can’t do anything about it and I ain’t taking it with me. Buh-bye.
I’m sure we all know I talk to God and to what I hope are my spirit guides. But I’m sure we also know I always have an ounce of skepticism in the back of my mind, as I know there are evil-intentioned voices in the mix.
(Seriously — why is it the voice that tells you to eat cupcakes is WAY louder and more-persuasive than the one to go do exercise?)
So anyway, I was kind of kvetching with my imaginary friends recently about the houseguest. And the response I heard VERY clearly was that I’m not going to outlive her, anyway.
Now, it sounded like the “Go eat cupcakes” voice, so I don’t know how seriously to take it. (But I would LOVE a cupcake right now…)
But it was more liberating than scary. Which surprised me. Because there is SO MUCH I want to do before I go. But if I can’t afford to do it anyway, well, who really rightly gives a fuck, you know?
In my dream, I was at Old Navy, contemplating a new outfit. And the Cupcake Voice told me to not only buy it, but to wear it RIGHT NOW because I’d be dead in 24 hours.
And I got hit by a car, wearing my cute outfit. Go figure. Right as I walked out of Boca Town Center. (Damn it, I KNEW it was treacherous to shop there!!!)
Even in the dream, I remembered the Cupcake Voice of days past. And I was glad I hadn’t ignored it — that I was blessed to have received that communication. Ergo, I was as OK with going at 36 as I could ever have been.
I woke up somewhere during my Life Review in the dream. I was smiling so serenely that the Ultra Extra Over Extended Extra-Terrestrial Houseguest from Outer Space was no longer my burden.
I was overjoyed that the Wicked Witch of the West Coast couldn’t reach me anymore.
And I thought of all those deadlines and dumb things that irk the fuck out of me … that had wasted so much of my time … and thanked God that they were no longer my problem.
Ah, death. I can only hope to go so quickly and peacefully when it is indeed my time. I hope I will have lived and loved a great deal more. But I look forward to starting over in another era, too.
I still wonder whether I’m going to kick it young or whether the Cupcake Voice lied to me like it always does. (“You can go for a walk and burn off the calories!” Fucker.)
I do promise you this. When I do go, and if that parasitic son of a bitch Schmitthead is still alive in Maryland, there will be many a glass trinket or commemorative plate a-flying right into his pointy little head.
Anyway, rest in peace, dearest departed friend of the family. So glad I got to meet you and I can only hope that your spark and spunk will carry on in the rest of us.