April 7th

Today is my father’s death day. Twenty-five years, if you can believe it. I cannot. My sleep problems existed before he died, but his illness and death prolonged those problems and made them worse.

I was worried, very worried about my sleep last night. I had bad dreams, but no nightmares. I hope I can sleep tonight, too.

What was strange was who I dreamt about. Not my dad, though I have dreamt of him many times. I think my mom briefly appeared in my dreams last night. But the characters in my dreams were figures from pop culture, pop culture I had shared with my parents: Edwina and Bubbles from Absolutely Fabulous and Dave Thomas and Joe Flaherty from SCTV. They were just there, they didn’t provide any big insights. Not sure why these were the figures my subconscious pulled out. Interesting that those are British and Canadian shows respectively. Huh.

I did dream of my grandfather. He was angry that I wanted to spend today alone. He yelled at me and I yelled back. This makes even less sense. No one on either side of my family has ever asked how I was doing on Dad’s death day, let alone cared that I wanted to spend it alone.

All of these figures feel too strange not to be purposeful, but what could they possibly mean?

I also dreamt about work, too, so who the fuck knows. I guess that’s the thesis statement for this entire blog.