Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 9/2/2022
By Fitful
I was sorta stalking this guy's house. Well I don't know how it started but I came on a bicycle from far off everyday, riding into town, past the sea, past grass. I kept coming, checking, looking for a way in. Finally I did manage to finagle my way inside. He didn't much want me there. Kept trying to remove me. Then, my mother came, got an invite to live there, and began to press her feminine wiles as she usually does to get herself a place to stay. I was mad and jealous. Not necessarily of the guy, but of the guy's house. And I was mad. I'd sorta been doing the same thing, save I wasn't sexy and I was there to fix the house. But I did want to stay. I began renovating. I pulled out all the stuff from the kitchen shelves, with him much protesting, and began removing crown mold strips from overtop wallpaper. Yeah. Who's idea was that. I organized and replaced everything. I fixed the shelves, the little knobs and hardware, the placement of a shelf, all as I went. And I wasn't finished. That wallpaper needed removed. But he came back, after tons of fussing the entire time for me to stop, to notice it was better. He left to take a shower as I was working on it. My mother woke up, from sleeping on his couch. I began in the second bathroom, noting some tiles needing fixing. I went back out to my mother. I told her she was acting like a whore, and I refused to be like her. That she'd made me her pimp, as she had my entire life. She sidled up to one of my friends and tried to press herself. I was furious. And mad. And I refused, I told her, I refused to be her. I began with crown mold stripping in the bathroom, the second one. It came off easily and I knew I could do more work here. Then mad I smashed tiles that were coming off or broken. And then I realized I could fix them. So I began to take them all off. I did open the door to the first bathroom where he was showering but I didn't hit on him. I wasn't her. Besides I was more after the house. I wanted to fix it. It was perfect, everything I wanted. I just wanted a house to fix up. He had one that needed fixing. I asked if he wanted to help me detile the second bathroom then left, abstractedly looking at the tile here to gauge the plan. Then I finished in the kitchen. He came out much more calm, looked over the work, and was pleasantly surprised and happy. Mother was quiet in the living room. I thought perhaps she had left. She didn't like being yelled out and called out for bad behavior. Buy I felt just as bad, felt like I was fighting being her. But so happy because I was fixing the house. And that enjoyment eclipsed the bad feeling. And the shelves did look good. It wasn't finished I told him. It wasn't done. I needed- And he kissed me. And the kiss lasted through a long explanation of what needed to be done.