Randy informed me that Cheyenne is in heat. And we've learned Bubba has the wrong name - it should be Horn-Dawg. Oh My God! You'd think he's in pain.

I had two really weird dreams last night. The first one was before the dog alarm went of at 4:00am. One of my movie dreams. Really hard to discribe. Kind of a Doris Day-Rock Hudson-ish movie combined with spy thriller. The second one was after I walked the dogs, napping in the recliner in the living room. It was before I went to work, I had mixed the contents of two pill bottles together, I thought they were the same prescription. I needed to take my anti-depressant (OMG, I'm dreaming about it!), I pour out some pills, and take one. Then I realize that I had combined different prescriptions, and I had taken one of Randy's. But I had to go to work. So, then I'm in my car, and it's dark outside (why I'm going to work in the dark, I'll never know), and I'm getting sleepy. I keep getting sleepier and sleepier, then it feels like I can't control my body. My car starts to go backwards. I tell myself all I need to do is step on the brake, but I can't. I wake up, but for a second, I'm still going backwards. Then I realize I'm in the recliner, in then living room, safe.

On the Jimmy front, last weekend I got the ex's check in the mail, it came with an itinerary for my son for this weekend. And that's the first we know about it. You know, when Jimmy was little I thought it was soooo cool that he had my personality, we just meshed. Now, he has the parts of my personality that I didn't want him to have: he's shy, and he keeps everything all bottled up inside. I've told him over and over he can talk to us. Somewhere up in heaven, my mother is sighing with relief, "Thank God! It wasn't me after all!"
And he still hasn't given any sign of what he wants to do after he graduates. And he needs to be doing something right now. He can decide not to go to college, or join the military - it is his life and his decision (and, yes, not to decide is also a decision). I just hate to see such a wonderful mind going to waste. I want to nag, to scream and yell, to shake him until he comes to his senses, but my gut goes with the baby bird analogy - he has to learn there are consequences to his actions. He has to make his own mistakes now, whether I like it or not.