Dreams and Reality

I spent the night dreaming. Whenever I wake up multiple times, then I remember my dreams.

One was a recurring dream I have often that I get to my senior year of high school or college and realize I can't graduate because I need another math class. Always such a troubling nightmare and I've had it many times.


Then I had a dream about matching kids and instant messages and emails and conversations about matching kids, which was sort of like being awake.

Finally, I had a dream that we broke down and let John come home for a visit and he spraypainted our walls. When I confronted him he went through the whole "this is just like when you accused me of ...." and "it's not me" and "i didn't do it" and all that junk.

Which woke me up fully dosed not in dreams, but in reality. Last night, Bart called Mike. There were no words of gratitude for the times he had called in the past. There were no thank yous for the money we sent for snacks, the magazines we sent, the letters. There was only anger and demands. Why wasn't he getting more calls? Why weren't we supporting him? Paying for him to get an apartment when he gets out of treatment is JUST LIKE paying for someone to go to college, so we should be willing to do that. And we better be coming to visit on Sunday. And oh, can you call me again?

Why would Bart want to call again? Sure, he's confused and a mess right now, but he continues to mistreat everyone and then doesn't understand why we can't handle more of it. I'm going to call down and talk to his counselor there sometime today. He's just so spiteful.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting at this small desk in this small room at the hotel waiting to find out if I can get home today or not. I am wearing as clean as I could get them with shampoo and completely dry underwear, as clean as I could get them with shampoo but sort of wet pants, and a not clean at all shirt. Too much information?