Daugher of a Preacher Man

I've been having very crazy dreams lately, which I'm prone to do in spurts from time to time. This one was about my parents, specifically my dad. Turns out, the neighbors across the street were building a retirement home. My dad couldn't be outdone, so he built a huge MegaChurchHome combo thing. For locals, it was something like Joel Osteen. He was so bent on impressing people I was relegated to the nosebleed section. The thing was in Denver and in order to cram as many seats in as possible, they were very close together. With the thin air I was really struggling to breathe. My ribcage kept hitting the back of the seat in front of me.

Then it was eating time. There were the most gourmet foods you ever did see and people were dining out on this enormous balcony with hardwoods around the edge and a glass floor for the rest. I remember wandering around through all the tables trying to find something to eat.

It was very bizarre and not at all like my dad. My dream this morning was about me making the rounds at my apartment picking up bags of garbage and putting them in a little red wagon.

I never said I was normal.