April blizzard; and my dreamlife pays off.
Woke up this morning feeling eleventy percent better than when I went to bed last night. Suffice to say that my psyche was not in a happy spot yesterday, and that counseling, grad school, money, my allergies, my mother, my friend Jenn, and I spent much of the day kicking it when it was down. (If I'm going to be fair, I should take my mother off that list and rephrase it says something about my projection of my mother; my actual mother was nothing but nice to me.)
Anyway, I went to bed, slept like a rock-like thing, and woke up this morning at the tail end of my first true Supernatural dream. It was like watching an episode--I love fannish dreams like that. It wasn't a particularly good episode-dream, but it had its moments. There were Sam and Dean squatting in a really nice little bungalow, taking advantage of the high-end washer/dryer the owners (who were, you know, on sabbatical or something) had just installed. Dean was really happy about his clean socks, and Sam, at a key plot point, went all detective!Sam because Dean left dirty socks on the floor and that must mean he's in trouble, because he's been all about the washer/dryer. And JOHN was there! He was haunting Dean, except that it may not have really been John, it may have been bad, X-Files Consortium-like people messing with his head. And then Dean disappeared altogether, and Sam (see above re: detective!Sam) had to find him. Dean looked superhot throughout, but sadly Sam was wearing the worst outfit ever. This horrible v-neck t-shirt with some godawful, unWinchestery pattern on it, and no buttons at all, and... It was just bad. Like scrubs that nurses in pediatrics wards wear, but uglier, and on Sam, which--WRONG. And his jeans were horrifically short. Like, way above the anklebone short. I believe this is my subconscious mocking Jared for the Kincade thing. *obligatory "Oh, Jared"*
Anyway, it was fun. And then I woke up and looked out my window and discovered that Harlem Avenue is buried under what looks like a good two or three inches of snow, which is still coming down, wet and heavy. Bleh. And I have to go into the city tonight to have dinner with the author of the Project of Doom (which, btw, is totally making me its bitch again).
Anyway, I went to bed, slept like a rock-like thing, and woke up this morning at the tail end of my first true Supernatural dream. It was like watching an episode--I love fannish dreams like that. It wasn't a particularly good episode-dream, but it had its moments. There were Sam and Dean squatting in a really nice little bungalow, taking advantage of the high-end washer/dryer the owners (who were, you know, on sabbatical or something) had just installed. Dean was really happy about his clean socks, and Sam, at a key plot point, went all detective!Sam because Dean left dirty socks on the floor and that must mean he's in trouble, because he's been all about the washer/dryer. And JOHN was there! He was haunting Dean, except that it may not have really been John, it may have been bad, X-Files Consortium-like people messing with his head. And then Dean disappeared altogether, and Sam (see above re: detective!Sam) had to find him. Dean looked superhot throughout, but sadly Sam was wearing the worst outfit ever. This horrible v-neck t-shirt with some godawful, unWinchestery pattern on it, and no buttons at all, and... It was just bad. Like scrubs that nurses in pediatrics wards wear, but uglier, and on Sam, which--WRONG. And his jeans were horrifically short. Like, way above the anklebone short. I believe this is my subconscious mocking Jared for the Kincade thing. *obligatory "Oh, Jared"*
Anyway, it was fun. And then I woke up and looked out my window and discovered that Harlem Avenue is buried under what looks like a good two or three inches of snow, which is still coming down, wet and heavy. Bleh. And I have to go into the city tonight to have dinner with the author of the Project of Doom (which, btw, is totally making me its bitch again).