Bad Dreams…Sad Dreams…

It seems regurgitating one’s dreams in public has gotten popular in blogdome as well, so here’s one that has me sipping bourbon and feeling off-centered on a Sunday morning before 10am:

I was desperately trying to get to my oldest son’s High School football game where he was quarterbacking, and every obstacle that could get in my way, did. There was a flood, but I made it around the washed out road…there was lightning, and trees fell, but I finally made it to the stadium, and trying to find a parking space in this muddy field was impossible, so I finally said screw it and dumped the car and headed to the stadium entrance on foot…it was clogged with people, so I ended up jumping the fence and pushing and shoving my way through until suddenly, there was no resistance at all, and people began streaming back out towards the parking lot…I burst out onto an upper landing, hoping for just a glimpse of my son, but the band was filing off the field, and groundskeepers were beginning to clean up…I asked someone where the after game party for the players was going to be and he pointed in the direction of the other side of the stadium from where I was. Again, I ran and struggled to get over there, even vaulting a fire that someone had started to burn the leftover paper decorations and trimmings from a high school football game, and when I got to the picnic area where the party had been, everybody had already gotten on to several dark green, military buses, and were pulling away from me. They were all in some kind of drab military uniform, and I spotted my son in the window of one bus as he passed by, and I screamed and waved to get his attention, but he didn’t seem to see me and the bus pulled away…

I never made it to one of my sons football games…ever. Oh, I tried, but the divorce, work, and all of life’s other petty bullshit kept me away from him. I regret this more than I regret the death’s of some of my loved one’s that have passed on…

Be warned…

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