dreaming.

i have been having mom dreams.

while i was in la we watched 'volver.' i hadn't really thought about the plot of the movie, and hadn't even really felt strongly about it when i knew what the plot was (dead mom comes back from the dead to hang with her daughters), but i did get a little weepy at points.

then, that night, i had a dream that *my* mom came back from the dead, to see me, and i hugged her and smelled her neck, and even though i knew it was a dream as it was happening, it was wonderful. of course then i woke up and felt like crap.

the other night, not last night but the night before, i had a long mom dream that i can divide into three troubling mom vignettes. one was this pushy haitian girl, who was a nurse of some kind, telling me i was doing a bad job caring for my mom, who was bedridden. the second involved mom getting out of bed and getting dressed (in men's clothes, for some reason) and telling me she felt a lot better and thought she might have kicked whatever it was that was laying her up. i hugged her and i had to tell her that she didn't have the kind of thing that one 'kicked.' she was confused and scared. the third episode involved me realizing that i was supposed to have been feeding mom and i couldn't remember the last time i had fed her. this was accompanied by shame and panic. (i have similar dreams about other things semi-regularly. i have a performance and i forgot and don't know my lines or even what show it is. i have a pet/baby that i forgot i had and i don't know how long i've had it.)

these are not pleasant dreams. they're all anxious and scary and sad.

then i wake up, feeling terrible, because not only is my mom dead, but my subconscious is spinning out scenarios where it's somehow my fault.

i felt very sad yesterday. i barely got out of bed. i stayed in bed all day, pretty much, reading. i meant to do work on the house (which we moved into on saturday) but i couldn't do it.

allen called me the other day to ask me what i was doing with mom's clothes. he said that his chiropractor is about the same size as mom, and she helped mom 'a lot' and he thought maybe he'd give her some. his chiropractor gave mom a couple of massages, which i am sure was lovely, but would hardly constitute 'a lot' of help. also, when she was over the last time, she was bitching loudly about how poorly she was treated when she was pulled over and arrested for a DUI the night before. the police had the nerve to treat her like a criminal. which she is, because she was caught breaking a law. but whatever. so, i told allen, no, he couldn't give her any clothes. that i wanted mom's FRIENDS to have first dibs on her stuff, and then, if things were left over, then the other lady could take a look. he also asked about mom's car and if there would be a reading of the will. i answered him, but the whole thing really upset me.

i made up this entire story in my head, which still seems pretty plausible to me, in which allen and his chiropractor, lucinda, begin dating. they seem like they'd make sense as a couple. in my story in my head, they move into mom's house, which i am allowing allen to live in, rent free, for a year, and i end up basically paying for allen to have a new girlfriend in my mom's house. he gives lucinda all mom's clothes and shoes, and they just hang out smoking pot and being drunk.

again, i admit that this is based on very little evidence.

but the whole thing freaked me out.

i wish i could ask mom what to do about allen. she's the only one who understands him.

he's so upsetting to me. i feel like i'll never be free of him, and he'll forever be a little infected splinter in my head, coloring my memories of my last year with mom, and the time afterwards. i am still so angry with the universe for giving me allen to deal with, on top of everything else. he shit on my birthday, he screamed at me in the hospital, he thinks he should be able to live in that house forever, rent-free, or that i should build him another house to live in, on the property. he makes me feel so helpless and just trapped. stuck.

i have so much other stuff to wade through. i resent having to worry about allen.

anyway, i'll give him the year. i will not allow him to cohabit with a lady on my dime. i'll re-evaluate our tenant/landlord relationship in a year from now, to see how i'm feeling.

did i mention i have a lot to wade through? i need to send out the email about mom's memorial party. i need to do more planning on the party. i need to make a flier, to put up at the hospital, about the party. i need to unpack. i need to go to redwood valley to bring down my stuff and drop some stuff off. i need to pack for nyc. i need to go to the chiropractor. i need to get my hairs did. i need to do my juice fast.

but i'm so sad that all i can do is read in my pajamas.

i know it's only been a couple of weeks, but those weeks are made up of days, and each day is filled with hours and minutes that need to be passed, and those hours and minutes are tough to face. even though it's only been a couple of weeks, those minutes have weighed heavily on me.