Even the Big Ones Fall

It is on nights like last night that I realize that hubby is actually human, and not a big, strong, immortal man. He is always the one to keep calm in a situation and take control, always strong, always dependable.

We went to the gym after I got home from work, per our norm, and we both hit the weights on the bottom level. I tend to finish up about 5-7 minutes before him so I head upstairs to start on the elliptical. Hubby is usually up shortly after me, so you can imagine my surprise when I noticed I was on the elliptical for 12 minutes, with hubby no where to be found. Just as that thought crossed my mind, I felt a heavy tap on my back. I turned only to see hubby looking extremely sick and asking if we can leave. Within a split second I had gathered my belongings and jumped off the machine. This was so abnormal, we was a work out-aholic (shh my blog I can invent words if I want hehe). Just as we were nearing the stairs I realized, something is so not right, just then he started swaying on his feet and I knew I needed to keep him away from the stairs. Not an easy feat when he has a couple inches in height on me and about three times the muscle.

Just then a passer-by saw the look on my face and knew something wasn't right. He saw me struggling to keep hubby on his feet so he helped grab him and talked him through a breathing technique that talked him out of passing out. He helped him over to the chair and disappeared.

At this point I realize, he isn't unbreakable. He is as real as me and any other person. Though he is strong most of the time, every now and then, he falls.

Don't worry, he is perfectly fine. He worked through lunch at work and didn't realize it until it was too late. Silly. Thank God he is okay. It is moments like those that remind me that I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to him.

Freaky Morning

So, little bit of a scary/creepy blog for the morning.

Robert wakes up every morning around 5 a.m. to get ready for the day, eat and head to the gym before work. Every morning he kisses me before he leaves & I get up to check the doors. It is something I have accustomed myself to doing after that whole stalking incident long ago. This morning was no different than any other morning. I woke up, went to the back door double checked both the regular lock then the dead bolt (almost in OCD fashion, having to check twice to assure my first check), then to the front to check it was closed and locked. I can't ever drift back off to sleep for my extra hour unless I know for certain the house is nice and secure. Now that I was certain it was, I hopped back and bed and drifted off for about an hour. I woke up to my alarm clock, jumped out of bed and went to the back door to put Buster out as I did every morning after I woke up (he doesn't have to use the bathroom at this time, just likes to chase the neighborhood birds and cats that may be in "his" backyard). As I rounded the hallway corner, I noticed the back door standing wide open.

Buster didn't seem to mind and ran straight out. I stopped for a second then acted casual and headed to the bedroom. If someone were in the house, I didn't want them to see me panic. I walked calmly to my side of the bed where the handgun stays at night (I trust myself with the handgun only, the shotgun is a bit to much for me). I grabbed it, took the safety off and mentally prepared myself to check the house. I rounded the corner, called Buster inside and had him head up the stairs to the second story of our house. I figured, better him first, at least he could pick up a scent or something. He acted normal, not picking anything unusual up I suppose. I went up, cleared the top floor, calmed down a little, headed downstairs and cleared the bottom. Checked all windows and doors.

What the heck is going on? Robert's calm reasoning when I called him in a panic, "you must have been tired when you checked and the door wasn't closed all the way when you locked it." I told him "okay, if we want to make excuses so I won't be freaked out, I will go along with that." I guess he doesn't realize the extent of my OCD and that it was no mistake, that door was double locked.

I'm still a little freaked out. I don't think it helps that I keep having dreams about freddy kruger. ah!

Anyways, I figured I'd freak some of my readers out since I was freaked out as well! Happy Thursday!

Dream Interpretation

Some people try to interpret dreams. I'm not one of those people. I don't really believe that just because you had a dream about fish means you or someone you know is pregnant, or any of that nonsense. BUT I have been realizing lately how much your everyday life and thoughts come into play during your sleep/dreams.

For example, last night I had the most odd dream I've had in a while. It was a lot of random stuff mixed together that all links back to either conversations or thoughts I have had in the past few days.

I had a dream I was walking through my grandparents backyard and noticed my dad was building, or should I say rebuilding, a deck that my Papa had built when we were younger. My dad said he was making improvements to add in a pool for my grandma (because Ghea can totally get around that well? ha). Anyways, this thought I'm sure came from the fact that I logged on yesterday and noticed I had a new follower (a shout out to the very talented carpenter/hunky handyman Thad). I checked out his page and saw some of his great work. It reminded me of my grandpa and all of his great stories he had from building houses, then I remembered the deck he built in their backyard so us kiddos had something to play on. & of course, my dad was involved because he learned from the best. Even though my Papa was my mom's dad, he took my dad under his wing like he was his own son.

I walked inside my grandparent's house after talking to my dad and notice dirt tracks all over their white carpet. This probably came from me thinking about purchasing Buster shoes to wear outside so he would stop tracking in dirt from outside when he plays in the rain. After entering the living room I notice an odd looking dog. It has a small head, a regular body, and tiny, short legs. This, I assume, came from me seeing a friend's dog for the first time and noticing how small its head was when compared to the rest of his body. Then, the friend mentioned that our dog, Buster, wasn't really fat, just really tall and had tiny legs so he looked fatter than he is.

After petting the odd looking dog, I heard scary music. I turned around to see Vincent Price walking through the front door. I started screaming in horror. He scares the crap out of me. I'm thinking this came from me thinking about doing haunted houses this year. As I turned to run away he kept chasing after me. I kept saying "I'm going to be late for work, I'm going to be late for work!" I looked at my dream clock and it was 9:30 a.m. Crap, I was late!

I suddenly woke up to realize it was only 4:30 in the morning, I was not late, and all of that crazy randomness was, in fact, a dream.

& to answer your question before you ask, I don't do drugs and I haven't drank in forever. so I have no idea what happened there!