Apparently I would sit it down to try and play a game with me, banging its head against the wall as I tried to prop it up, creating a massive knot on the back of its noggin. I would then run with the baby to get some ice from the store, and instead find some sort of cold magnetic eggs, which only made the baby cry worse, and ask advice from every one there as to what to do. Then later on I would leave to go out and forget to make sure someone else watched the baby while I was gone, and send frantic text messages to my friend who was in the house to get them to switch the baby from sleeping on its stomach to back or whichever is the one they're supposed to do.
At least, that was my dream last night. Very weird. I can understand some of it, because I know I have always been petrified of having a baby, but not why I was thinking about it last night, when I spent the evening in a Soho club with my friend and six Italian guys dancing to crazily mixed music and trying to plan a 2am outing to play foosball!
Speaking of 2am, I'm getting old. I went out Tuesday night, Thursday night, and last night, and wow am I tired. Somehow I managed to make plans with 3 different people tonight, so I will probably end up very dazed and confused on Sunday, when oh yeah I might try to go play golf! Why can't I learn to find the happy medium in life? Either I'm doing nothing but watching iTunes movies and sitting on my roof terrace, or I'm acting like I'm in college or something.
Not a complaint - it's much better to be really enjoying life again, I must say!
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