Sit Down and Shut Up

To date, I’ve been kicked out of three Facebook groups. All three are groups run by younger women; Millennials and Gen Z. My presence wasn’t welcome in all three cases because I asked a question. A good question. Nothing confrontational or preachy. Just a question.
I was told my question was racist (it’s not), I was told women my age had their chance and now it’s time for the younger generations of women to speak up and act.

The Garden of Penises

The Garden of Penises Evidently, it’s not a thing. Telling people the dreams from the night before. Sometimes I care enough to keep my dreams to myself. Other times, they’re vivid and wild enough that they need sharing. Yes. I decide that they need sharing. I do know it was a long night’s sleep. This is not normal for me. The reason my sleep lasted over 10 hours last night is because I didn’t sleep the night before. That’s the fourth time in ten days that I’ve stayed up all night. My lack of sleep followed by a lot of sleep is not a pattern I like. I’ve spoken to doctors, I have medications, I take supplements, and nothing works consistently. There are underlying stressors. A lot of them. It’s my stress that’s affecting me. I know this of course. My dream last night felt long. It took a long time to get to the penis (and the following sprouting of more), and the first part is sketchy. I can’t quite remember all the details, but I know there were elevators, there was a lot happening. My biggest memory of the first portion is how many Chinese dumpling shops I was walking by. I love Chinese dumplings. I will have some one of these days. I don’t know when I first realized I had grown a penis. It just showed up. A happy thing, nice enough in length and girth, I just didn’t understand that penises could grow—just like that. Disbelief aside, it was there, and I was pretty sure I needed to see a doctor. I got busy doing other things in my dream so I forgot about the penis until it dawned on me that I should tell my husband. I pulled down my pants in front of him and now there were two penises. We both wondered what to do next, and while we contemplated options, two more grew. I was sprouting penises. By the time I was ready to wake up, I had 30-40 penises sprouting in my crotch. I gently touched my pants when I woke up, wondering whether the mound of protruding penises was there—they weren’t—it’s a dream. I long ago gave up an analyzing my dreams. On this occasion, I am really wondering if this dream shouldn’t be analyzed.