Last night, in my not so sweet dreams, I dreamt that when in direct sunlight, the hair on my face appeared to be much longer than the hair on my head, I’m talking male hipster length of beard. It was a megamix of the Twilight franchise. Fortunately, this excessive hair only appeared when I was standing in the sun or on those frequent times when I stand under a fluorescent light. Let’s face it, this was not a dream, it was a nightmare. 🙀. Halloween came late for me. The scariest thing about my nightmare, is that I knew that the bristles were there, poking out of my skin even when I was in the dark, and for that there was no cure.
Now, one should not read too much into dreams, I mean, I have no idea what the one meant the other day where I was on the 7s chatting my work shit, feeling happy. In the case of this particularly dream, I will hazard a guess and say that the unwanted regrowth on my chin, lip and general lower part of my face is making me feel self conscious, manly and ugly, and those do not a confident woman make. Well, that, or it could just be because I was looking at photographs of some fine trannys before I turned off my lights.
Damn you social networks. Damn you steroids. Damn you menopause. I think I really need to listen to some Shania Twain. If only I did not hate her music so…