Woke under the worst conditions I've ever personally known. Below is a graphic retelling, involving nightmares, being sick and some scary ass spiders. Don't read if that could bug you. Instead, check out Tracy Bohnam's cover of PJ Harvey's "50ft Queenie". MMhhh thrash violin. }:>



My throat issues from Sunday have not gone away. With Cloraseptic they've been held in check but when they get out of hand my nose and ears get stuffed and it really, really hurts to swallow or talk. When I got home I forgot the spray stuff in the car. Since I was going pretty much straight to bed I didn't want to deal with it. I woke up a couple times feeling crappy but resolved to tough it out.

Finally I drifted into a dream where I was talking with my sister about whatever in our old bedroom in the only house I've ever lived in. My family doesn't live there anymore but whenever I dream about my family it's always in the old house, never the new one. Mom walked in and we got quiet. She had been planning some sort of ceremony that was vaguely attached with Church (something that made sense in the dream but in reality doesn't exist). I was questioning her on why she was going it alone instead of talking with my dad. I think it sort of had to do with renewing her marriage vows or something, but it was clearly something she was doing solo. She started dodging my questions but finally confronted me on saying she didn't want to deal with my dad anymore. He was basically a stranger in her house who she didn't want to toss out but didn't want to deal with personally.

I was getting angry so she left the room. I was seated on the edge of my childhood bed and in frustration I laid back and looked up at the canopy (yes, it was a canopy bed). I started spying spiders in the thin rods that hold up the canopy. They were extremely colorful with designs that were more Fabrege egg than naturally-occuring warning colors. As I looked around I noticed a few more, with wildly different colors and sizes.

I am a big time archnaphobe. My fear response is to freeze and *sometimes* I manage to cry out when something scares or surprises me.

I froze and cried out and pretty much started to cry loudly, trying to lay back harder in the bed. My mom came back in, concerned and leaned over me to see what I was looking at. She reached up to try to grab one but I kept her from doing so, knowing they were extremely virulent. I couldn't speak but I had enough of my mind together to get away. I pushed her off and ran down the hallway. At the other end used to be my brothers' room and I ran out of room to run at their doorway. That's when I started vomiting in my dream.

I must have tried to retch for real because I woke up in my boyfriend's bed literally choking and trying not to throw up. AT first he just said to sit up so that I could breath but from my coughs he could tell there wasn't anything in my lungs, but my throat was really bad off. Then between coughs and gasps I told him about the dream and started crying. I mean I about lost my shit. Thank goodness for the boy. He turned on the lights and showed me I wasn't at the old house. He got the Tussin CF (fake Robitussin) and poured me a shot and helped me calm down.

That was an hour ago. He went back to bed for a little more shut eye but I figured there was no way I was going to close my eyes in a dark room. So here I am.

Not the worst conditions ever but the worst for me.