This morning, well, afternoon really, I woke up with a jolt - unnerved by the crazy dream I'd just had.
In it, I was standing beside the dock in the lake that's in front of my family's cottage. There were waves, not huge ones, but definitely higher than there ever are on the lake. Paint Lake is small, and it's completely surrounded by large tree covered "mountains." (They're not technically mountains, but they seem too big to be considered just hills.)
I looked out into the water and I could see this crazy looking fish bobbing around. He looked like an Australian Aboriginal painting of a vicious fish head, with all kinds of colourful lines all over him, one big staring eye, and jagged teeth. It came closer and closer and finally emerged, but by then it had become a massive, dripping wet, grey Russian Wolfhound. It spoke to me in a language that was all fuzzy and clicky and I couldn't understand it.
Then it was gone, and when I squinted out into the waves I could see a little baby on an inner tube. The baby was there, and then it wasn't. Then it was there again, only closer, and then it vanished, only to appear closer yet again. It freaked me out. Finally, the baby was right beside the end of the dock. A cute little blond boy. He was wearing clothes, and I glanced around the empty lake looking for someone who might be missing him.
"Baby!" I said, "Why are you out on the lake all by yourself?" He smiled at me, and I noticed his skin was so pale, but he had healthy looking red cheeks. He gurgled and reached out to me. I moved toward him, thinking I would take him inside and heat up some mashed potatoes for him to eat. As I got closer to him, though, something about him looked "not right." He had such dark circles under his eyes, and he was buzzing.
"What's that sound?" I asked, as I walked chest deep in the water so I was right beside him. The baby wasn't smiling anymore, he was kind of glaring at me. I pulled back on the little red plaid jacket he was wearing and reeled back, seeing that it was full of wasps. Like, FULL of them. It was almost like he was made of wasps. I knew it was an un-dead baby as I quickly tried to run away - through the water, with my arms flailing to ward off the wasps that were pouring out of the baby's jacket.
It was the stinging that woke me up.
I'm thinking I might require some psycho analysis.
Does Rand Paul read my blog?
7 hours ago