It's a plot!

I dreamt last night that Darling #1 Husband was divorcing me -- that, in fact, he'd been planning to do so for an indeterminate long time, secretly squirrelling away money in a separate account so that he'd be able to afford to get his own place.  I couldn't get a straight answer out of him as to why, at least, not until he suffered an accident at his new place of work and then I (as newly-ex-wife) couldn't badger the hospital into letting me see him.  (And why, my darling, would you go to work at an experimental ammunition factory?)

None of this is true, of course:  D#1H and I just leased him a new car, we're making vacation plans, and while I do often comment on his "Internet Mistress" the fact is that he's not even having a cyberaffair.  He's just one of those guys who have no trouble making friends as an adult, but still subconsciously thinks of himself as "unpopular" in the way he was relatively friendless during childhood.

Still, I can't entirely blame this one on the NyQuil.  Some days I really wish I could pull my subconscious psyche out and give it a good, stern talking to.