Good morning my darklings.  This pretty dark winged fairy is called Enigma.  I thought it would ease what I’m about to write about because it freaked me out.  I had a nightmare.  That, in itself, is not unusual but their usually to disturbing to write about or I try to make myself forget them.  This one is disturbing to me and thankfully my husband woke me up from it when he came home from work this morning. Cigarettes and coffee are flowing like water now and just as a note for those that know, I’m still weening off the cigarettes.  I should be out by tomorrow.

Back to the point at hand, I was going to tell you about the nightmare or let’s just call it a bed dream.  And dreams are enigmas and then there were some in the dream, thus the fairy.  Plus she’d make an awesome tattoo.

Anyway I was back in high school, which was like 16 years ago for me, and I was late for a class.  I hated being late and having everyone stare at me while I tried to disappear into the floor so I could slink into my seat.  For some reason we were all seated in bleachers in the class and I walked up to the chalkboard and stepped on my teacher’s feet. The teacher happened to be Aaron Tate, another writer for AKA literary who really is a teacher and has a blog of his own you should have a look at.  “You’re already late Ms. Krueger,” her said but my last name obviously wasn’t the same then.  “Get off my feet, get your packet from the desk and try to catch up.”

So I go get the manilla folder labeled:  Krista and headed to the top of the bleachers where I could be alone.  The envelope was heavy and I wondered what in the Hell was in there.  I opened it and dumped it out on my bleacher.  There were 5 separated packages with a book, some clues and a math question.  Math is my dreaded subject, so I guess I was in some mathematical/literature class.  A look to the chalkboard told me I was supposed to read the books, use the clues and solve the problem in each mathematically with those things.  I looked at the books.  I’ll change the name of  the one book I knew just for the books sake.  It was called Broken Poems and the clues were a needle, I can’t sew, and a spool of dark gray thread.  But the math was graphing.  As I was fumbling around with this work, that no one else seemed to be having any trouble with, the T.A. shows up and it’s Prof. Snape.  He hollers at me to get going with the work but I don’t know what to do because I can’t figure out the graph or the math on the one book I thought would be the easiest.  My panic starts to really kick in and I’m wondering how much time is left in that class before I could escape or if it needed to be finished before class was done.  That’s when my husband woke me up.

That might not seem like a nightmare, or bad dream, to you but to me it brought high school right back.  I was gothy but I was super shy.  I took all the advanced courses and went to a hard high school where you could get college credit for some of the courses.  My first semester at college was like taking my freshman year at high school again.  The college wanted to give me tests so I could completely skip classes if I passed the test, so it isn’t as if I’m stupid but this dream made me feel that way and math has always been my Achiles heel.  Thanks for letting me get that out.  I feel a little better now.  🙂

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