Monday, August 1, 2011

A Different Kind Of Dream...

I've had many different kinds of dreams over the years but none quite like the one I woke up from this morning.

Perhaps the closest thing to today's dream are those in which I had no idea where I was or what time of day it was and it took me a minute or so to successfully reorient myself.

Those rare dreams I've had in which I'm not sure if I'm alive or dead aren't quite as similar but perhaps generate the same sort of existential unease.

Those dreams in which I think I'm awake but can't keep my eyes open and keep wondering why things are no clearer than they are in a dream remain in a class all their own.

Anyway, in today's dream, I couldn't recall how old I was.

Somehow my sleeping mind came to the conclusion that I was older than 18... but not yet 21.

When I woke up shortly thereafter and realized I was more than 30 years off, I felt... surprised... disgusted... and robbed.

For a good part of the morning it was difficult to escape the feeling that I'd gone to bed nearing the prime of life, only to wake up long past it....

If I dare to fall asleep again tonight, will I wake up tomorrow another 30 years older?

Will the next entry to be posted here be written by an octogenarian?

Probably not.

But dare I take that chance?

Would you?

*Wondering if I could hire someone to do all my sleeping for me*


  1. The dream was like your vacation and waking up was like coming home.
    I want to say Lake Eerie, so I will.
    Speaking of lakes, I look at that GLOFS/LSOFS site you showed me almost every day. I use it to decide whether to go to the beach and which beach to go to, based on the wind direction and the water surface temperature.
    Sometimes I use it to make screen shots to show the hardened skeptics that yes, Lake Superior's water temperature REALLY IS in the 70s this week. And if I don't go to the beach I use it to rationalize that it would have been cold or to try to kick my butt to get me to do it tomorrow.
    I doubt I would have found it on my own, so I owe it all to you.

  2. Saturday is Deve's parents' anniversary, also known as Hiroshima Day.
    I always wonder what either one of my parents may have thought about the shared holiday, or if they thought about it, before the blessed event.
    I'm tempted to say, "Don't you think the atomic bomb is proof of God's existence because where else could all that Power come from?"
    Oops. I just did. Shame on me.
    Hey, the captcha is presil. I love the inkblot aspects of those pseudo-random psyllables. This one straight off made me think of presil logic.

  3. I hadda dream yesterday after my late-morning physical therapy. I dreamed my physical therapist was having some kind of family party like a reunion or graduation party at her house and I had to go to her house and do the PT exercises in her backyard. It was a kind of normal suburban kind of yard and the house had a deck and it was probably your basic split-level suburban house built into a hill so the back yard is lower than the front yard and the street. When the exercises were done I started for the front yard to leave and I found myself running enthusiastically up the slope to the front yard and that surprised me. I remember deciding I'd better not run even tho I could and I was worried the physical therapist might notice me irresponsibly running on my injured ankle. The driveway out front was a kind of normal suburban two car driveway and there were two camouflauged vans (or maybe they were decorated for the party) parked on the street and blocking the driveway. I walked in front of one of the vans and located my car a few cars to the right next to the curb in front of the house. I got into my car and started it and the engine made a loud whining noise as if I'd held the key in the ignition position too long. I tried turning it off using the key and removing it from the steering column. The engine got quieter, but I realized the motor was now running on its own--I assumed it was dieseling like my old 69 Chevy used to do. I was sitting there trying to figure out what to do about it when I woke up and realized I'd had a very restful nap after going home from physical therapy and putting my leg up with an ice pack velcroed to my ankle.
    And the noise? Somebody in my neighborhood was running a loud whiney saw like a table saw and the change in pitch was apparently when the saw engaged the wood.
    It was a really restful nap. I slept about 90 minutes and felt pretty good when I went back to work and was very productive.
    I'll stop now.
    Well, no. Oddly enough, I had parked my own car out on the street by the curb instead of in my own two-car driveway because there was a shady spot and I calculated (estimated) the car would still be in the shade by the time it was time to go back to work. And it was, so the car was cooler than it would have been in the harsh August noonday sun.
    I'll stop now. I see you have a new entry. I was just sort of reminded of my dream when I saw the title of this entry.

  4. I hadda nuther dream this morning. I had woke up around 4:45am and thought of a breakthrough idea to solve a workflow problem at work that involves WAY too much of, "that's the way we've always done it--there MUST be a reason, even if we can't remember it".
    OK, so I went back to sleep and dreamed I was in a classroom being lectured by our (campus) president who was explaining why we must all be vigilant for opportunities to work more efficiently. While he was talking, a canister vacuum was being passed around and people were cleaning up around their desks because one person's idea to be more efficient was to get rid of janitors and have us all clean up after ourselves. I ended up cleaning for the people around me and not hearing much of what the president said because of all the noise.
    When I was done cleaning I asked him why there was so much mess to clean up anyway and wouldn't it be better not to make messes as we worked. He asked what the mess was. When I looked it looked like paper dust to me (like you see inside a laser printer) and he gave me a knowing look and then pointed at an old chalkboard (the kind that's on a stand and you can flip over lenghthwise and write on the back. It was roped off like it was in a museum but he seemed to be implying it was chalkdust on the floor--not paper dust.
    That made me cranky and I woke up. It was two minutes before the alarm was going to go off so I got up and had breakfast.
    The captcha is pregnale. This seems like a pregnale story.
    Or Pregnale Spaghetti Sauce--It's in there.

  5. So cranky I forgot to close the second parenthetic diversion.
    I used to use a compiler that would error out with, "Unexpected End of Source" if you did that and you had to guess what was wrong. I called it "The dreaded comment bug" when people brought me that error, full of perplexion and fear of being late with their assignments. People hated me because it was so easy for me to find what was wrong when it was so hard for them. A guy I hired who eventually became a co-worker tried to teach me to act as if it was hard and waste a bit of time pretending to work for it so as to make people feel better. I felt like if people needed lies to feel better that was their problem. But he had more friends and when he died I said everybody said how nice he was and never noticed how smart he was.
    I'll stop now.
    The captcha is entede. That's almost French for meaning, isn't it?

  6. I sure wish I could hire someone to do my sleeping for me, too! (Then I could stay online much longer!) And they could record my ephemeral dreams so I could have some sort of story to relate. *Cocking eyebrow upwards* However, I don't think that my prime ended before I was 21. As far as I'm concerned, whenever I FEEL prime, I AM prime! So, being prime is sorta up and down, sometimes less physically fine, but sometimes more mentally fine... :-)