My sleep was plagued with oddities, last night.
Cats seeking the comfort of their usual human (the one who hasn't been home much of late, leaving them bereft of lap or nooks to curl up on, in, near for a lovely long snooze and some well deserved petting) plucked cotton, made kitty-biscuits, promenaded up and down, over and around, purring at maximum volume and speed. I pet them on autopilot, in my sleep, but I was still aware.
I dreamed, of course. Such dreams. I won't describe in detail, because you still wouldn't get it if you weren't there - so much of it wasn't visual, but experiential. Frustration that someone would start speaking to me but not finish the thought. They wouldn't answer me when I spoke to them, asked urgent questions that required immediate answer. They wouldn't move fast enough when urgent action was required, and they kept asking me to make things right but wouldn't listen or mind when I tried to.
Most irritating.
It is a pet peeve of mine to ask a question and receive silence for an answer. At the very least, a person can acknowledge they've heard me and are thinking about their response. Worse, still, in dreams, when I know it isn't real but can't help the response.
Sometimes I wake still angry from a dream. Those mornings, it is more difficult than usual to refrain from sniping at T, the Evil Genius, the cats. Those mornings, I really need a little quiet to contemplate what my brain was about last night, sort through it, and reconnect with what passes for reality 'round here.
This morning, I took a shower, because it's one of the few places I can be left alone for any length of time. Fifteen minutes of me time.
The dreams are still rattling around my head, even as I type. I think they'll end up part of a story. That often happens - a dream becomes the kernel of a story.
I am scattered, right now, flying loose about the universe, dust whirling up and out to the cosmos.
I need to be collected, soon - I have an appointment with a chiropractor in a little while, and the kid needs to be dressed, breakfast and entertainment packed for him, and my hair is still wet and uncombed after my shower.
SO much to do, but I'm still caught in the grey, post-apocalyptic world of my dreams...
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5 comments:
I dreamed last night that my family and I showed up at some fancy mansion, uninvited where there was a big party going on. None of us were dress properly.
I'll have to think a while before I figure out the significance of that one.
Speaking of dreams, my eldest daughter claims that she had an epic dream and when she woke up she started writing profusely. She said it's something about our tupper wares and some cataclysmic event.
Did you write your dream down?
Rick, I have no idea - although I have several dream dictionaries, I don't use them often, preferring to simply enjoy the oddities of my brain at rest.
Chris, I don't write them down, per se, but I do often use them as the basis for a story. I don't usually forget my dreams, and if I give them a little thought upon waking, I will remember them indefinitely. It's cool that your daughter wrote hers out, though - maybe she'll make a book out of it.
I hear you, I hear you! Just give me time to think of a clever reply...
Heh, Susan - take your time...
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