Last night my mind served me a bitch-slap of ginormous proportions...while I was sleeping, no less. I dreamt and it was not good.
In my dream, I went to Freeport to visit my mother and when I arrived, I began washing the dishes. As I washed the dishes, water sloshed onto the floor from decades-old pots and pans that had been left to soak in the sink. I then alternated between washing the pots and mopping up the water on floor, the whole time keeping up a running commentary with Deanna about how old all my mom's dishes were. I stopped mopping (I think at one point I was both mopping and dish-washing), turned to D and said, "You know what, I think I'll get my mom some new pots and pans for Christmas! That'll be a really nice gift for her." D asked where she was and I didn't know. Then I woke up.
Why is this significant, you ask? Well, my mother passed away in September 2004 just after Labor Day; at our Labor Day barbeque, I commented on how crappy her pots/pans were while she was washing dishes. We agreed that I'd get her some new ones for Christmas. Then she died three weeks later.
My subconscious is kind of an asshole.
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