Dream Douchebag

I had one of those damn-near “Best Weekends Ever” because I spent it with my favorite person, me. The shackles to the house were released, and I was AWOL for 48 glorious hours.

And even though I like to say I go to church just because it springs me from the pokey for about an hour and a half, I do listen to what they have to say. Really. This week we talked about sharing the word and doing our part to expose more people to faith.

I had wanted to ask the person who invited me to church what made him say, “This girl clearly needs Jesus,” but too many people were around for me to have any type of serious discussion.

I had spent part of my Saturday listening to self-affirming CDs as I drove all over creation. Right now I’m into Louise Hay’s “You Can Heal Your Life,” and I’ve got all kinds of companion books/meditations to accompany the audiobook. And just as it always happens, I get myself full of self-acceptance and -love, and then I go to church and hear how I have to prioritize everyone else instead, and my little “I love and approve of myself unconditionally” balloon gets pricked.

Apparently a friend of my mom’s from Pittsburgh was in town this weekend, as her daughter is interviewing for a job in my old stomping grounds. (I would love to help her pick out the apartment she’s going to miss with all her heart and soul when her mother moves in with her one day!) But the friend didn’t call till after she was back home.

So, I took the bait and asked why. The answer was of course that it’s because I’m a terrible, mean, hateful, selfish and spiteful person. Well, not in those exact words. But close enough, as everyone figured I wouldn’t drop off the roommate with her friend. Because, you know, as I’ve been hearing for a year and a half, that it’s my responsibility to make these things happen. And handing someone a Metro farecard and wishing them luck still wouldn’t count as help. 🙂

For what it’s worth, I think her friend is an idiot and should have given her the choice of whether to try to meet up. I just hate it that the excuse would have been no because I’m the twat in the scenario who only thinks of herself and doesn’t want to spend her life playing chauffeur, landlady and otherwise angry whore.

I don’t think I’m the twat in this particular scenario. As I love and approve myself unconditionally, and all. 😉 Even though Jesus would be disappointed. *sigh*

I keep having strange dreams. There’s this douchebag from high school who always comes to me in dreams when I’m at my limit — he’s usually a sign that I’m in the right place at the right time. Sometimes he appears when I’m making a big change. I’d probably clock him over the head if I saw him in person, but I have to admit, his presence during my slumber is always peaceful and reassuring.

I just wonder why he’s appearing to me now. I could certainly use change, even on the small scale, if that’s what he’s conveying.

But I also had a dream about someone else last night. And it just confused the shit out of me. I just wish that if I resolve to stop dreaming about someone, that my subsconscious would comply. But then again, if it would, then I’d never get the comfort I seek from Dream Douchebag, would I now?

One Lonely Response to Dream Douchebag

  1. Caterwauling :

    […] I’m at the point where we could be Facebook friends. Not real friends. There’s no love left. No anger, either. Just, nothing. OK, so I dream about him once in a while. This is the first time he’s actually surfaced after I thought about him. […]