A friend e-mailed me last night at 3:30 because she had a horrid nightmare that I had been shot. She wanted to know that I was doing okay. I appreciate the thought. And I wrote back that I was doing fine and hadn't been shot, though you can never rule that out what with me living in Central City and all, surrounded by the neighbors that I have.


Our neighbors are moving. You know, the ones with the troubled child who is now a ward of the state and gets bounced back and forth between the psych ward and the foster system on a monthly basis. I am, oddly enough, sad to see them go. But that's because they are actually a nice couple. And they respect our boundaries (even if their cat didn't and paid the ultimate price for said trespassing). And I'm worried that their apartment is going to go to yet another Mexican family with three cars and a large box truck.


I wrote back to my friend at 4:00 this morning. I had gotten up to let the puppies out to take care of business. I typically don't do this because I figure it gives Dec something to do in the middle of the night. Also, I've noticed lately that if I get up and move around, moving from unconscious to semi-conscious to fully conscious, I never get back to unconscious again. And then I'm just plain irritable. And snappy. I've a tendency toward the unpleasant in the best of circumstances; why hinder it even more?


This weekend, apparently I fell out of bed. It startled Puppicent when I landed on her bed, to the point that she decided to scout other places to sleep for the rest of the night. For a few hours, apparently, I continued to thrash around. Rather violently. Gasping for air throughout that time. And Dec had to hold me in bed.


The next morning, Dec had great joy telling the kids all about my night. And they laughed and made general merriment because of it.

I was not happy.

But I bit my tongue. Because normally I don't remember my dreams. However, that next morning I did. There's a reason I was trying to get away from Dec and was having difficulty breathing.


Should anyone else have a dream that involves my death, I'd rather not know about it. I'm rather superstitious about Threes.

1 comment:

absent-minded secretary said...

Stop it. You are not unpleasant, so quit saying that. And anyone has a right to be upset by unpleasant dreams.

Just so you know, no third dreams here. Earthquake dreams, are another story.