After getting Bella off to school in the mornings, I've been taking some pain meds and usually an anti-nauseal, which make me drowsy, and after a couple of hours I'll invariably nod off right in the middle of something very important, such as researching hysterectomy/endometriosis horror stories on the internet, or watching TiVo'd "Angel" reruns.
And I dream for the entire duration of these naps. ALWAYS. And the dreams are vivid, and detailed, and have the power to resume themselves even if I'm awakened. Like yesterday, when I dreamed that I was camping. On an ocean beach, near some deep woods (yeah, I know). And Fox Mulder was there, in his full FBI-dress-code navy blue suit, white shirt, tie, and black shoes. Realize, I was NOT dreaming of David Duchovney, who PLAYED Mulder on "The X-Files," but the actual Fox character FROM the show. And Mulder was seriously macking on me, and would not stop, even though I made it beyond clear that I was married, and not interested. I don't know where Alex was in my dream--probably out killing our dinner with his bare hands or fashioning a watertight shelter from tree-trunks, or something, but I was certain that, when he got back, he would be breaking out a serious whuppin' stick on ol' Mulder, and I always LIKED Mulder, so I didn't want that to happen, which is why I kept trying to get him to back off the goods. But you know, when you got it goin' on like this...HA!--this is a dream, remember? Anyway, that was the whole dream. I woke up before I was violated by Mulder OR rescued by my husband. And three things should be clear about this dream: I do NOT have any sort of particular attraction to David Duchovney (though I did love his ol' Fox character), I have lived my life in a land-locked state, and I have never been camping, at least not since I was 4 or 5 years old.
But TODAY'S dream: That was a HUMDINGER. I was, for some reason, on the local Air Force Base, alone. I was on some sort of "business," for which I had a visitor's pass, because normally I could not get onto the base. I was also on foot, going through some sort of (nonexistent in reality) checkpoint on my way OUT, and somehow got into the wrong line, and had to go through the part of the building where people went who were boarding planes. Ours is a C-130 base (in real life), so passengers are rather at a minimum. Anyway, security was extremely tight, and they would not allow me to turn around and go back to the correct exit line. They told me I had to get all the way through the flight checkpoint, and THEN I would be escorted to the exit.
So. A main component of the base security measures was a conveyor-belt upon which people were passed through a scanner equipped with facial-recognition software. I went through once, and alarms went off. I was sent back to go through again, and on the guard's computer screen, I could read (even though it was upside-down and in French--and I don't read or speak French) comments about myself. It said something about how I had voted in the last election, and how I had "NO REGISTERED POLITICAL PARTY AFFILIATION" (that is true in real life, although I have no idea what that phrase looks like in French). The second time, the scanner beeped, and this time the screen showed data about me having "RECENTLY RECEIVED TREATMENT FOR MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES." Went through again, was stopped again, this time with the readout concerning my credit load, and a note about my having recently bought a house. A fourth time, there was a notation of my driving record, which in real life is spotless, but in my dream had several violations. One more time, and there was a list of publications to which I subscribed, sites I frequented online, and books that I had purchased, PLUS the one I was just sent free to review (in real life), by Arianna Huffington.
Yep, I was being persecuted for not being right-wing, it seemed, and I got frightened. REALLY frightened. At the last second, I zigged when I was supposed to zag, and took off through a mass of people, and across some barriers--in my dreams I am HIGHLY agile--into the section of the checkpoint building that led to the exit. It was when I came across a trail of blood, first in droplets and then in a regular trail, that I panicked, started flat-out running, and then Alex (in real life) called on the phone, woke me up, and told me he'd found a used freezer to replace ours, which just kicked the bucket yesterday. It was kinda too bad, because although the dream was very scary, it was developing a decidedly "24"-like feel, and Jack Bauer might have been about to show up AT ANY TIME to save me.Oh, well, maybe he'll drop in during tomorrow's nap. And maybe, looking back on this post, I watch entirely too much television.
Speaking of heroes, my darling husband took a comment he left on my "pain" post from Wednesday, and built it into a beautiful missive to me, which he posted on his blog today. YES, he can be a colossal pain when he's hypomanic, and NO, we do not have a perfect marriage (what--you do? LIAR.); in fact, we were just in counseling this morning...BUT this is why this man is mine for life, and is my hero and my angel. He's all the "Jack Bauer" I'll ever need.And don't let him fool you about me "saving his life;" He saved mine first, and literally. I have never known anyone in the whole world who drives me as nuts, frustrates me as much, or makes me as happy. I love you, too, Alex, and you are right I think: Things are about to get a whole lot better. Assuming we can pay the electric bill.