I had this dream last night, more nightmare really, where somehow I was talking to ADG. It was somewhat based in reality because it was as if it was today, a year and some since we’d broken up, and we hadn’t seen each other since. It was not based in reality in that we were actually talking. Yeah.

At any rate, she was describing her daily schedule for some reason, and basically rubbing my face in how great her life is or something. To her (dream) credit, she wasn’t doing it intentionally, it was just an honest assessment of her day to day life.

By the way, can you believe what a fucking wuss I just was in that last sentence? You know goddamned well that the Dream ADG was maliciously trying to make me feel bad in my dream… I’m just so f’d up in the head with feeling that everyone has to like me, that in the extremely remote chance that she, or anyone who interacts with her, reads this particular post out of who knows how many, I have to make sure that I make her sound cool.

Seriously though, what the hell is wrong with me?

Anyway, she’s describing her schedule and it goes something like, “Yeah Sunday I have church, and then Monday is class, sex on Tuesday, Thursday is…” And on and on; naming all the minutiae that in her mind make her life more interesting than mine.

As she goes on, the specific minor things start to drop out of her schedule… because most people don’t know what they’re doing weeks ahead of time, you see. She starts to just name the recurring things like “Yoga on Wednesdays”, as she mentally clicks through the coming weeks.

Eventually, only one thing remains that is for sure going to happen on such a regular basis, and that is, of course, “Sex on Tuesday”… to the point where she just starts repeating, “Sex on Tuesday. Sex on Tuesday. Sex on Tuesday. Sex on Tuesday. Sex on Tuesday….” With a little pause between each instance, indicating that she’s looking at her inner calendar and really ticking it off as it occurs to her. I interrupt her to tell her that that doesn’t sound very romantic. She agrees somewhat, but then explains that it’s really much better this way, as she’s always guaranteed sex, and now looks forward to it. All the other times during the week she does it is just gravy then.

After the explanation, she goes back to her schedule, a look of intense concentration on her face as it gets harder and harder to think so far in advance. Somehow, she’s able to persevere, “Sex on Tuesday. Sex on Tuesday. Sex on Tuesday. Sex on Tuesday. Sex on Tuesday…”

And then I wake up.
Good morning.

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