Updates & Illnesses.

I have so much to share with everyone. I may condense it a bit because I'm ill...which sucks, for lack of a better word.

This is about what I look like. Just imagine the girl in the picture with red hair minus the ugly sweater, and pretend she's laying in bed, because she's too sick to get up and get on the couch. Yeah, that's bad, but it's true.

This is what I've been doing for the last two days, except I do not have a plastic bubble. I think I may have infected my husband, but he's not exhibiting the same symptoms as I am, plus, I went from zero to sick in 60 seconds. His symptoms are coming on gradually. I have huge plans for this week, but now I'm stuck in bed, doing the above activities. I was going to work out. I was going to start unpacking and setting up things at the new house. I was going to shop for some things we need for our house, but instead, I'm here, stuck in bed. *sighs*

"New house," you ask. Yes, new house. It's actually a cottage. Things kind of fell into place. It's much cheaper than our apartment was, and it's so cozy! There are inspirational quotes on the walls in the living room and bedroom. As soon as I saw them, I fell in love. This is the perfect place for a writer to live! Unfortunately, I haven't really been able to write much since we moved. The move took three days. It would have taken two, but the U-Haul broke down. Thankfully, U-Haul was nice enough not to charge for the extra day. That was a blessing all by itself.

Our landlady is wonderful. She is 90 years old and as sharp as a tack. Doug and I really like her. Her son is a writer, and as soon as I told her I was working on a book series, she pulled out his book. Her son is a child psychologist and quite an excellent writer. Just what little bit I read had me intrigued. We hit it off instantly.

I don't really miss the other apartment. Right before we moved, neighbors moved downstairs, and they played music so loud that my cats were afraid to sit in the floor. One night, their music was so loud that Doug called the police. We could hear the lyrics to the songs! There were people going in and out of there at all hours of the night. I figure they were doing or selling drugs. Whatever the case, I'm glad to be out of there. I think the things I miss about the apartment would be the dishwasher, the pink dogwood tree with its petals raining down when the wind blew, sitting on the balcony on those foggy fall mornings, and being close to our church. That's really it. Doug says we can plant a pink dogwood tree and eventually buy a dishwasher. We do have a huge yard, and the swing on the porch, and Doug can grill in the backyard, and our table is out there, and our bird feeder, and there's a window by the sink so I can watch the birds eat while I do dishes. This is just a place of peace all around. I've never been happier. I'm a bit agitated that I'm unable to get everything set up right now so I can truly enjoy it, but that's just the OCD talking.

I do have some pictures, but I will have to post them later. Maybe just a few...

JUST KIDDING! I actually found the series of pictures from two blogs on blogger, the owner of this cottage and her sister. You can check it out here. But I've got chicken noodle soup calling my name and I'm actually hungry, so I'm going to close for now.

Until later...

Trigger Warning: Nightmares

Webster's Dictionary defines a nightmare as...

Definition of NIGHTMARE

1

: an evil spirit formerly thought to oppress people during sleep

2

: a frightening dream that usually awakens the sleeper

3

: something (as an experience, situation, or object) having the monstrous character of a nightmare or producing a feeling of anxiety or terror

What Webster's dictionary doesn't mention is that nightmares suck and can really leave a person traumatized.

I had a nightmare last night that has totally messed me up. (I think I had a migraine in my sleep to top it all off because I woke up with shoulder pain, stiffness, and weakness in my right arm/side of my body), and I dreamed that I was in jail. I was dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, but instead of a cell, I had to crawl in a cave where I couldn't do anything but lay down. It was a very narrow space. If I sat up, I would have hit my head. There was no loo in the cave, and the officers laughed when I asked where the loo was. (They weren't called "officers" they were called "Amministratores" which I found odd. I looked did a search on that word, it's Italian for officer.) So I would lay there, close to tears. My husband and other family members would come to visit me, and officers would come and get me out of this cave so I could visit. I kept asking the warden what I did. He eluded to me being a bad person, even eluded to the fact that I told someone off and punched them dead in the face, but he wouldn't tell me why I was in jail. I met my cellmate, a man who was literally insane. He thought he was a woman. He brought in for rape. I was scared. I didn't want that man in the cave with me. He talked like he was mentally challenged and was telling me that we were going to have so much fun together. I cringed. I was sent back to the cave. The man was being processed, then he would come down there with me.

I decided to ask for a reduced sentence. The cave was scary. It would fill up with water when he rained. I didn't have a loo to use. The Amministratore decided to reduce my sentence, but still refused to tell me what I did to get arrested in the first place. (They also played "Good Cop/Bad Cop" with me.) They reduced my sentence, but they didn't let me go. They just put me in a regular cell.

The whole dream was really freaky, and I woke up, wondering how I got out of jail. Did I break out? Did my husband sneak me out? Did I serve my time? I had to spend twenty minutes telling myself that none of it ever happened, because I realized why I was thrown in jail, in the cave...

I had escaped from a concentration camp...