Writing has been a rather erratic process lately. I do it when I get time or want to procrastinate something else. Today, I’m procrastinating the big stack of papers of I’m supposed to grade today; hence two entries.

I’ve had disturbing dreams the last today. When ever I tell my mom about stuff like this, she always asks what I ate before I went to bed. Then she makes some kind of remark about Jesus or God watching out for us so that nothing bad happens, since bad dreams can be an omen.

To be honest, I’ve just been thinking too much. Friday night, I went out with the fellow teachers for a couple of beers. Somehow, we ended up talking about dads. Of course, it got me thinking about mine. Then it got me thinking about Dan the Man’s dad. He’s always really nice to me. All of his family treat me like I’m family, especially his dad. Anyway, all these thoughts provoked a dream about his death. In the dream, Dan the Man and I were in Houston because I had a kid (first weird thing). His mom called him to tell him that Dan Sr. had died. He’d been sick in the hospital and had refused treatment.

Yesterday, I was thinking a lot about the Juárez murders. I was wondering if this time they did catch the right guy, what’s going to happen, and will we get more information soon. Not to mention, I watched half of Pirates of the Caribbean before I went to bed. While sleeping, I dreamt about being in a church where people were being kidnapped during church services. I don’t really know why I was there; it wasn’t because of the mass. I think I may have been there to help figure out what was happening or something. Anyway, I was there with my sister and during the mass, she was kidnapped. It was done in a split second. I remember feeling the wish of the air and turning to see her place empty. I immediately stood up and started wanting to curse and screaming for my sister. I made it my personal goal to find the kidnapper. After what seemed like months, I found him. I cornered him somehow and made him take me to my sister. When we arrived at his house, there was a little girl in an inflatable pool with no water. The name “Teresita” was written on the pool. It was at this point that I woke up.

I hate when my dreams are not resolved. I tried going back to sleep, but the dreams never come back to me. Maybe tonight I’ll have better luck.

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