It starts out as some days do - the dogs want out at five in the morning. I get up and take them to the back yard. My dad is up and in the kitchen getting breakfast before work. This is red flag one. He doesn't work on Monday, but I miss this one. I think I walk back to my bedroom for something, probably glasses, and walk back to the door. This is where I realize I'm in a dream. We have storm doors, and through the back storm door, I see Belle and Romeo, and a tiny tornado of a dog running around with them.
If you're new to this space, I've had three dogs. The baby of the bunch (still an old lady though) passed away from cancer earlier this year. When I saw Izzy running around, I suddenly said to myself, "Oh my God, this is a dream." Except I didn't want to be lucid dreaming, because like I mentioned, any previous near-experience with lucid dreaming has lead to.terrifying sleep paralysis.
I immediately began to scream and run and break things - anything that might've made me wake up before the paranoia and shadows began to creep in. Eventually I did wake up, but I wasn't satisfied. I immediately wanted to go back into the dream to see all three of my dogs playing together again. I was sad, and I'm still pretty sad about it. Maybe one day it'll happen again, and I'll be able to make the most of it.
On a completely unrelated note; I'm trying to figure out how to comfortably do outfit posts. This was an experiment and a maybe. I don't know.
Today I've got to buckle down and schedule posts on various platforms and get some cleaning done. Tomorrow will be spent in the kitchen, baking pies and preparing hors d'oeuvres for Thanksgiving. Food prep is key y'all. Do some stuff in advance and save yourself the day of.