Single motherhood and tiredness go hand-in-hand but this week has been a doozy. The full moon brought bizarre dreams, insomnia and crazy ideas spinning in my head. This week I turned into zombie mother with visions of weirdness every night.
In one dream I opened a tiny white cardboard box in my undie drawer and found a singing bug, some kind of mite whose 10,000 cousins decided to sing opera with him. I’m sure it was a him. I tried to close the box but every time I shut it, the mite and his mates forced the box open so they could keep singing. Who knew Christmas drinks could cause those kind of dreams? I don’t even have an undie drawer. Egg nog anyone? Bottoms up