Due to this ridiculous head and chest cold that my son (The Vector of Disease) gave to me, I've been relying (heavily) on NyQuil at night. I have taken the recommended dosage and enjoyed (almost) a full-night's sleep.

Except for the part at 3:00 a.m. when I wake up with a tickle in my throat, cough until I gag, and stumble back into bed to find my husband hasn't even moved an inch.

(Note to self: Cough in bed. Much more comfortable there, and HDHusband has no clue you are in agony anyway.)

I've learned that NyQuil gives me some funky dreams.

In one dream, I dreamt my father (that in real life died in 1995) - had just ... up and run away. I had gone back to our farm and my mom was frantic, saying he'd not come home from work. We called the police and they found him, talked to him, and he said he just didn't want to be found. I was so angry in my dream. It felt so real. I was ready to kick some ass and take names later, when I woke up.

I told a friend about this dream and he said, "That's implausible. You know if your dad ever left, he'd have to take you with him". That made me tear up. I know my dad is gone, I saw his body, but apparently, ol' HDW has some issues still, almost twelve years later!!

The next night, I had a dream that my husband was cheating on me. Now, this I know is NOT true. But, being the good wife I am, I took the end of my stiletto heel and jammed it into her forehead. It didn't bleed. She didn't look that put out, and my husband only said, "HDW. Now why did you go and do something like that?"

NO MORE. Must give up the NyQuil. I'm waking up angry and confused, people. The cough is subsiding, so tonight, I may try to sleep sans the DreamMakingMedicine. Sweet God, it's awful.

On an urelated note:

My neighbor, TheBirdKiller, has asked me to water her hanging baskets while they are gone. Happy to. Except, she is really fucking clueless about them.

She had three hanging baskets ordered from the landscaping company. They were beautiful. Over time, hers started crumping. While standing outside with her and another male neighbor, we were discussing said crumping and GuyNeighbor says, "You know, you aren't watering them enough. You need to really stick the hose in ... " and started to do it for her. She rips the hose out of his hand and tells him he is overwatering her hanging baskets.

A week later, they are completely dead and she's getting all new ones from the landscaping company. Now, our hanging baskets have geraniums in them. She informed me ours were 'nice', but she didn't like 'those geraniums - they are so pedestrian'. Fine. But my baskets are doing well, and yours are sucking SHIT.

While talking to her yesterday and getting my instructions from her for taking care of them, she tells me they just need 'a spritz'. If you want dead ass hanging baskets that cost a lot of money a piece, then I'll spritz them. But if you want to have real live flowers upon your return from Richville, then just SHUT YOUR YAPPER! and let me do it for you.

But what do I know, right? My flowers are so ... pedestrian.

NyQuil makes me cranky.