kvetching up

Entry 1  " Ain't it just like the night to play tricks When you're trying to be so quiet?"                         -from Visions of Johanna  From Notre Dame 7.11.2018. When Jenny was first diagnosed, I had a recurring nightmare. In a darkened room, lit only by candles in candelabras sitting on an ornately carved dining room table, sat Mick, Omi and my mother dressed in flowing white robes, stern-faced. My mother and Omi sat across from me at one end of the table, with Mic to my right at the head of the very long table. I don't remember if they said anything to me, but I do know they were very disapproving of the way I was and had treated Jenny. Their presence was terrifying. I felt as if I was visiting the land of the dead and being judged a failure in my relationship with my cancer-diagnosed wife.      ⬲⬐⬐⬐⬐ ⬐⬐⬐⬐ ⬐⬐⬐⬐ ⬐⬐⬐⬐ ⬐⬐⬐⬐ ⬐⬐⬐⬐ ⬐⬐⬐⬐ ⬲ In my waking life, despite knowing it was ...

Entry 1    Going Nowhere, Going Nowhere I've been awake much of the.night, and gave up trying to sleep around 6 a.m.  I am sharing a bed with Jenny for the first time in a year out of necessity and a misunderstanding that when the place said it sleeps 5, that I would have my own sleeping space.  The good news is, the bed we are sleeping on, a pull-out couch, is so uncomfortable it is not possible to sleep soundly.  That last fact came in handy last night when I was having an M. Night Shyalamanesque nightmare , after spending the afternoon telling my kids what a terrible filmmaker he is. I dreamt I was at a multiplex to see a movie, not "Old" (his latest), but some movie created by my psyche. Jenny and I got into a row at the theater over the baseball hat she was wearing ( Eric's el pinché's. The real one somehow disappeared in the move. . . weird) and I stormed off. I ended up in a theater playing the faux-Shyamalan movie. The storyline was about going to ...