So, my dad called me last night. In a dream of course. I haven't dreamt about him in a couple years, and if I remember correctly, I was just as mentally unstable and stressed at that point in time, as I am right now.
I dreamed that he had called me, and woke me up. I told him I missed him, and loved him, and he should really call more often, as I don't have any way to get ahold of him. He told me he had been busy golfing and visiting people, and knew that I was busy too. I told him all my current woes, all the things I just don't want to talk to anybody in real life about. I got a ton of shit off my chest.
He reminded me that I can fix anything, and everything will work out in the end, if I just quit the pity party, and figure out what I need to do. He told me not to forget about the things I want to do, and to find the time to do them, and not to worry about all the things that other people want me to do,like have kids, buy a house, etc. , because I shouldn't have to change my lifestyle just to make someone else happy. He said that if I don't watch out, life will get boring and monotonous, and he didn't want that for me. He reminded me that risk taking is a part of who I am, and even when it doesn't work out, I am happier for at least trying.
After all the serious talk, I told him about my dogs, and Smyrish and how I'm going to visit mom next month, and how I can't wait for summer to get here, so we can camp and go to festivals and such. He told me he had a lot of fun things planned too.
He ended our conversation very abruptly at that point and said he had to go, as he normally would, and left me yelling into a dial tone, asking when he was going to call me next.