...dreams, mothers, mush...

The therapist is back from vacation and we were supposed to talk next week. I have been feeling a little scattered at the prospect of resuming therapy, so I emailed him and put it off until the middle of next month. I just told him some things came up and I have to put off the therapy a bit. I have mixed feelings about having done this, but mostly I feel relieved. Three more weeks of living in my very own settled brand of comfort is good, even if it is a bit closed off by other people's standards.

I took a nap after I sent the email. I had weird dreams. I dreamed I was riding in a car with my mother. I was talking to her about myself and she was giving me advice about anxiety and she said I should listen to her because she is the expert. I screamed at her and said, "You are not the expert. I am the expert!" I guess I told her ass, eh?

Then I dreamed that some little girls were living in an apartment unit that had a big grocery store in the front part of the building. I was in the grocery part, but the people who work there were milling about stocking the shelves. It was difficult to shop with all that going on, so I figured I'd do better to get out of their way and shop later when it was more convenient. Then I saw the little girls at the door of an apartment just off the grocery section of the building. They answered the door to a man who had brought a cart filled with books. The girls were excited and happy to see him. He was wheeling his cart from door to door like a little mobile library. He was the guy who plays Captain Stottlemeyer on 'Monk'. I heard him speak to the children, too. Damn his voice. He sounded like Stottlemeyer, too. That is exactly the way my therapist's voice gets when there is... mush. Gawd. Anyway, in the dream I hollered to the girls to get me something to read, too, but I don't think they heard me.