Eerg....

So, I had a dream last night that I got stabbed right in the heart meat. Not metaphorically. I mean literally. Right in the chest and through the heart. When it happened, I didn't know what to make of it and obviously, I had no idea what it was that I was supposed to physically be feeling since I had never been stabbed in the heart before.

I guess my subconscious was basing my dream experience on the movie scenes that I had seen and stuff and what I thought it was probably like, and it probably didn't come close or whatever, but I have to say, it still pretty much sucked.

Let's go back in time in this dream I was having. Let's go back to the point of how it came to be that I ended up getting stabbed in the chest and stuff:

Well, <something something something>, and there I found myself getting mugged and instead of the mugger just snatching my bag and running, he snatched and stabbed, before taking off. I remember thinking to myself, "How random was that?" and I also remember how pissed off I was at myself too. I mean, for some random piece of shit to be able to get the jump on me like that. It was pretty much a wretched feeling.

So there dream me was, facing my dream mortality. No purse, in a parking lot, stabbed in the blood pumper and probably dying. It was pretty weird. It really sucked. I thought of my children. I thought of my Puppy Guts and how I wished I had another opportunity to tell them I loved them.  I thought about what the end was going to be like. Was that it? Was that the end of the ride? When I stop, does everything go black and that's it? I had a moment of panic sprinkled with regret. The thoughts racing through my mind were going about a gojillion miles a second. And I am not talking about your garden variety, "I forgot my cell phone at home...." or "Where the fuck are my keys?" kind of panic. I mean, the debilitating "HOLY SHIT! PANIC!" kind of panic. I was dying. That was it. Alone, in a parking lot and this was it.

Then I woke up, bolt upright, sweating and breathing heavy, clutching at my chest, trying to feel for blood and a wound. As soon as my heart rate was something resembling human and not hummingbird, I thought about what little I remembered about the details of that dream. And as hard as I tried, the only solid thing I remembered was feeling a tug on my bag strap and a thud in the chest. And to no surprise, I was not able to fall back to sleep. Go figure.

Another slap in the face with reality and how fleeting life really is. Finding that I really need to go back through my life again and prioritize certain aspects so that I don't have the regrets. Wow, huh?

Yeah, so that.