Here is a short story that I have submitted to some online magazines recently. It is spiritual in nature, so, if this is not your thing, give it a swerve.
Pepi
I sit mesmerized by the cherry blossom breeze outside my window. It is a welcome distraction from the looming task at hand. This is a call I do not want to make, and as I consider it, the chest heaviness coupled with the stomach knot begins. Well, here goes.
- Hey, it’s me. Thanks for taking my call today. I had a bad dream last night, and I am feeling a bit down today. I need to self-nurture and journal how I feel on days like today. I wrote a few things down but began to cry, which surprised me.
At times, I think I am doing well and learning how to deal with my feelings, but apparently, not. Some say being too sensitive is a blessing and a curse. It is a blessing to feel my feelings and others’ feelings, but it can also be exhausting. Now I am beginning to think I may be a narcissist for thinking I am an empath. However, another part of me resents this ever-growing psychobabble vernacular which seeks to constantly re-label everything. Others say over-sensitivity can be a superpower but that is just a little bit too positive and hippy-dippy for me.
I overanalyzed last night’s dream as usual, but suffice it to say it was about being lost. In the last few weeks, this theme has featured in my dreams. I think last night was the third such dream. And I know what you will say: I am not looking after myself properly—not eating well and getting enough exercise—which is why I am lost in my dreams. I lack momentum and direction. I do love the word momentum, perhaps because of Tum at the end. More words should end with the word tum. I think I will start making some tum words up to make me smile.My tum is too big, as I eat too much, but my plan to reduce it is gaining momentum ( couldn’t resisttum.)
Giving up the gin was all very well and good, but I know I am nowhere near as fit as I could be. During my first yoga class last week, I was aghastum at my spare tyres as I viewed them from a pathetic attempt at a downward dog. The fartum mid pose did not help and as a result, I will not be going back, even though the lady on my right laughed.
In my dream, I was walking through the airport for days, trying to find the correct gate. The exhaustion was real, and everybody kept giving me the wrong directions. Lucid dreams like these leave me waking up with a hangover-type feeling without the joy of having had a drink.
I went to a few AA meetings once when I thought that I had a problem and I began to have lucid drinking dreams. Somebody then told me that when I had drinking dreams, I needed to drink as much as I could during the dream which made me smile.
All the best
Stay fab
Adele
