DREAM A LITTLE DREAM
I don’t remember my dreams. Well, that’s not entirely true. Sometimes I remember them but they’re dull, like my library books are overdue and I don’t turn them in on time and the fine is astronomical. For a meticulous person like myself, this is highly stressful. Or there is that one where I am having a torrid affair with Timothy Olyphant from “Justified” (it’s a show on FX that I’m addicted to; don’t ask, it must be his hat and his accent. I'm a sucker for an accent). I wake up and look at Ashley and of course have to confess immediately that I was cruising through Harlan (the town this show takes place in) and just before gunfire broke out, Railin told me I was the proverbial yin to his yang. I’m starting to wonder if I should refrain from watching TV before bed. Then again, a little cowboy crush seems harmless enough.
I’m not sure what my partner dreams about, but something tells me it is like a fast paced action film. He talks a lot in his sleep, sometimes it involves shouting out directions, other times it sounds like dialogue from “24” and then often it’s just an innocuous question like he asked me the other night… "who are you?” I believe it was. I assured him I was his girlfriend, but he didn’t look so convinced. Other times he has been known to fly out of bed like there is a firecracker up his backside and I discover him at the end of the bend looking like he’s under attack, or he just moves in the bed incessantly like there are ants under his skin. Perhaps he’s dreaming he too is in Harlan and is trapped on an anthill watching Railin and I discuss our future. Something tells me it’s more like he is voluntarily trapped in a locker room with the entire fleet of Victoria Secret models.
When I was little I used to love to go to sleep just so I could dream, sometimes they would be so involved that waking up would be such a let down. Other times, I would have one of those horrifying dreams where you are holding your breath and in order to breathe again you have to wake up. No wonder I’m an insomniac, dreaming can be downright terrifying at times. In my opinion, the term nightmare always seemed a bit too innocent for how treacherous dreams can become. But let's stay positive, shall we.
As we all know, the beauty of dreams (the good ones that is) is that you can be anyone, go anywhere, and hang out with whomever you choose. And no one can tell you that you can’t, aside from your boring old conscience. [I figure a bottle of red wine should take care of that pesky ol' thing]. The dream world is definitively the only place where one could be involved in a ping pong battle with let's say...Johnny Depp, then swim naked in a lagoon of Pina Coladas whilst it was raining tiny frogs on your head. And of course, there would always be the strangest people in attendance that you just can't seem to figure out how they got there - or more importantly, why. Like your great aunt Viola twice removed - who was of course telling you to put your clothes back on and get inside because it was raining frogs. Ah yes, never a dull day in dreamland.