I've had some interesting dreams recently. The night before last, I dreamed I was on a holodeck. I kept switching through setting, but I was changing more than my environment. I was not only trying on different clothing, but different bodies. However, at some point I stopped changing and the room began changing more like a standard Star Trek holodeck. The finally room I was in was filled with shallow wooden boxes with large amounts of baby budgies. They were all blue and just getting their feathers in. They were pulling themselves from box to box, in the baby-budgie head-first method of locomotion. I was in a happy place.

Last night, I dreamed I was in a maze of a house. There was a strange man in whiteface who was running the place. The house was so large that it had a lake and a hill with cars. It was almost a village in a house. There was something wrong, a sinister air. I felt compelled to investigate what that wrong was. I followed these streams of crusty liquid up the hill and found an old stationwagon that had rusted with the years. purpleglitter was with me then and at that point had been with me on my explorations in the house even though she hadn't been with me earlier in the dream. We got in the car and I was able to start it. There was a road at the top of the hill; and after driving a short distance, we realized we were on the outskirts of Moscow. We drove back to the hilltop and looked down. There was the house and all it's trapping that we had departed. I concluded that there was some sort of portal to Moscow at the top of the hill. purpleglitter and I decided to drive around and explore the outskirts of Moscow. purpleglitter's cell phone miraculously worked and we called zarthon who told us we ought not be traveling around through portals willy-nilly and should head back at once. But we ignored him. Who was driving kept switching seamlessly in the dream, sometimes it was purpleglitter sometimes it was me. The controls on the car ended up locking up and we skidded into a ditch. It faded out after that.

Somewhere in last nights dreams purpleglitter and I were in a bank trying to stop a $2500 transaction from her account to a con artist. The bank was entirely bureaucratic and unhelpful, and we felt as if we were fighting against time. They kept asking invasive questions that had nothing to do with banking. Odd randomness. Why must bureaucracy even invade my dreams?

I've finally cut that physically abusive, thieving, lying, manipulative, con artist bitch completely out of my life after all these years. Yay!!

cambridge hospital called. some supervisor nixed my application for therapy there, because i don't live in cambridge or somerville. it really doesn't matter. according to the next call, asking for money, which i can't pay for my insurance, i'm now officially uninsured as of 3 days ago. the soonest i can get masshealth is a month and a half. so that means no fucking therapy or even hormones.

i'm upset about the hormones. who really cares about the therapy. i hate fucking therapists and pdocs. do they really care? no. they just want my fucking money. i don't have any, so they can shove it up their asses. i hate them. therapists are just con artists that will fuck around with your head if you pay them enough dollars. they can all go to hell.