Friday the 13th

July 13, 2012 was on a Friday. I checked into Good Sam's bright and early that day, as I began my 6-day wait for the arrival of the dudes. I ate (well, picked at) a lot of crappy hospital food. I asked myself, "What have you done?" about a dozen times. I wondered if it was possible for my stomach/uterus to get any larger before it literally popped. I watched "How to" videos explaining what the hell I was supposed to do with these boys once I got them home. I gagged every time I looked down at my hand and saw that disgusting IV needle. (I could never be a nurse.) I watched a lot of Reds baseball, and was sad when Joey Votto hurt his knee. I cherished that chocolate milkshake Jovita delivered to me. And, I was basically scared to death. But guess what, I survived! What an exciting and exhausting year I've had.

Anyway, have I told you about the latest dream I had? I was at work on Wednesday morning, writing protocols, answering emails, you know, the usual. I started talking to my buddy, Erin. She told me that her boo sent her a text message to inform her that upon leaving for work, she had neglected to turn off her hillbilly fan, and that he was pleasantly surprised to see that the house had not burned to the ground. That triggered the memory of my dream. 

In my dream, we had a huge house. So huge that I was exploring the top story, finding rooms I

People really eat this?

never knew existed. So huge that there was a market within our walls. Doug and I walked through the halls of our estate perusing the shops. We came across a shop that had TONS of University of Louisville paraphernalia. I looked at it in disgust and hollered, "Who the hell would try to sell this crap in my house?!" Then, I looked a little closer at the shop and saw that the other half of the store was blue--it sold both UK and UofL loot. Then, I looked even closer and saw that the store clerk was none other than Rick Pitino and he was sporting a 2-face-esque suit: half blue (handsome Harvey Dent) and half red (sicko villainous 2-face). I went on by the store talking to Doug about how nutty this was--you know, a hall of fame coach dressed in a blue and red suit selling pennants and basketballs in my house. We were almost past the shop when I spotted something I wanted to purchase: an ice cold bottle of Ale-8-1. I got the pop and went to check out. "Thanks, Coach." And then he said to me, "You know, you should give potted meat a chance. It really is tasty." As we walked away, I was puzzled, "Did Rick Pitino just talk to me about potted meat?"

After that, Doug and I were suddenly in a limousine. "We're going out for dinner." Doug said to me. "Okay. But I thought I smelled something cooking in the kitchen." I replied. "THE STEAKS!!" Doug exclaimed. Then we ran into the kitchen and there was Rick Pitino surrounded by smoke. He had burned our kitchen slap up trying to fry steaks.

What the heck? I am crazy.

In other zombie Allison sleep tales: At one point last night, I sorta woke up from my slumber and told Doug, "I think we have bed bugs. Something is biting me." I did not wait for confirmation on whether or not we had bed bugs before I went back to sleep, less than a minute after I had commanded him to check the sheets. I had probably been dreaming about a bed bug infestation. Ugh. I am itchy just writing about it. Nastay.