I must have been drugged

I had a dream... and thankfully it stopped as just that.

I woke up from a wonderful sleep and fell back down and i knew- it was time to have my babies. So off they took me... to a hotel. But not just a hotel, a gymnasium in a hotel. There were people standing around the viewing area watching the goings on. And it was dirty- very dirty. I could see dust in the air and stains on the floor and wall. It was not a sanitized room and it was NO place for me to bare my children.

So i began to yell and complain. I want a sanitized room- why aren't we at a hospital?! Why are there people WATCHING?!

So they agreed to move me, (i can be quite persuasive) but I had to walk myself, no bed with wheels or anything. I was following a friend and his foot was bleeding and he was leaving bloody footprints everywhere he went (why he was in bare feet i can't say...). I wondered why he was bleeding and why i was not- don't women in labour bleed? or emit some sort of fluids...(like when your water breaks...)?!

They lead me to one of the hotel rooms, with the cliche floral bed spreads that had probably never been washed. There were a lot of people in the room, and they were all just sitting around, drinking coffee and socializing. Paying no attention to poor pregnant me.

Hello?! Lady in Labour here!

I was still not satisfied with the situation (obviously, even in the best of situations it's hard to please a pregnant lady).

I want a sanitized room! You are doctors, you must have sanitized wipes and blankets and stuff- get them!

Some how they got me to lie down on one of those gaudy beds. I noticed that there were two people in the corner whom i new a bit- but who would never want to witness my giving birth. But there was also my 8th grade 'boyfriend's' cousin there, who i had never particularly liked, and judging by the look she gave me those feelings were mutual. Yet i said nothing about their presence in my 'delivery room'.

Finally in strolls my mother, looking care-free and unconcerned (that her first born was about to have her first born-s) oh and she had a toddler clinging to her hand along behind her?!

She walked passed me and went to sit with one of the doctors who was drinking coffee.

Mom, text Krysta!! i ordered. text her and tell her i'm having my babies!

but i don't know how to text was her nonchalant response.

well then text Tessa and tell HER to text Krysta (i was in labour, i was in no state to be making sense)

but i don't know how to text...

i don't care- tell her i'm having my babies!

Next thing i remember my leg was bleeding (there's my fluid!) and my mother was holding a cloth on it.

And i began thinking- how am i pregnant... who is the father... when did i have sex?!

The only possible answer to those questions scared me, so i stopped thinking about it...

And my leg bled on...

And then the door open, in pounced Krysta, and i was startled back to consciousness.

from spit to chocolate- just hold on

through the pains and turmoil of rejection, abuse, and prejudices he held strong. While the others worked so hard to push him away, he stood tall against their abuse.

and it paid off.

the ugly duckling, whom i spoke of earlier on in the summer, i am happy to report, now seems to be the head of the pack, or i guess i should say the flock...

when they go swimming, guess who's the leader. when it's time to move to a new patch of grass, the first to take a step in the desired direction is none other then mr ugly himself!

it's funny how quickly and drastically some things can change. One day you are merely a discarded cigarette-butt that has been stomped into the pavement, forgotten and spat upon, and the next you are a goddess and everwhere you turn there is somebody new handing you free chocolate!

so to all those used and abused cigarette-butts out there, just think of our dear ugly duckling and remember what he had to endure before reaching his goal.