My dream self is a raging jerk.

A reader had this dream about me last night:

You had some sort of Catholic women’s gathering at your house, and women from all over were coming. When we got there, there was a sign on the porch that said, “This ain’t no Edel gathering.” We went in and on some tables was the food. You said, “I’m pregnant and I like peanut butter and I like sausage. So you can make yourself a peanut butter sandwich, or a sausage sandwich or a peanut butter and sausage sandwich.” There was a large can of peaches with a spoon in it. You said, “after you eat, go outside and find some twigs and make a craft or something.” I mentioned to you that I was expecting our 5th baby in November and you just snorted and said, “Amateur” and walked off. Then I woke up.

I can’t tell if this means I’ve arrived, or that I’ve departed.

 

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