Friday, September 22 -- These Dreams


Arturo Sandoval, "Swingin'"
10,000 Maniacs, "Our Time In Eden"
various artists, "WWJD"
 
 
 
 
 
've had dreams for four consecutive nights now. Thursday morning, I dreamt that someone had intruded into our apartment. At the same time, I heard a noise somewhere in our real-life apartment. I woke up, trying to scream or say something, but couldn't, which only made me all the more afraid -- until I realized that a couple of laundry baskets that I had stacked up on the floor had shifted, probably blown over by the fan.

I can remember having nightmares like that when I was a little kid, but I haven't in a long time.  It was a wierd feeling.  Actually, I hated being a little kid.  I didn't know then, because I was so small, but I was probably clinically neurotic.  Or maybe all kids are like that; I don't know.  I guess I'll find out soon enough.  And though I was always happy that I'd never have to live through childhood again, I guess, indirectly, I will.

Last night, I had a dream that my wife and the Little One were back from their trip, which only served to make me really miss them again. I've really been sleeping horribly lately, and I've been watching what I eat and drink before I go to bed so I'm sure it's not caffeine or anything like that. The only reason I can think of is that I miss them.  Trying to snuggle with a pillow just doesn't work very well (and kissing it goodnight is totally out of the question).

This worries me, though. If I go on another interview trip, I'll probably have the same problem -- again. It's hard enough for me to talk about all of my good qualities (all one of them), let alone when I've only had two hours of sleep.
 

 
 



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