As a general rule, I don’t sleep very well. When I have a lot on my plate, my sleep patterns are even worse. And I dream.
The dreaming isn’t bad, it’s just exhausting.
For example, last night I slept the sleep of the zonked from 9:30pm-ish to 1:30am (how do I know the time? I awoke with a start and saw my clock). From then on out, the following happened in my brain:
I was at a sports arena, trying to attend some sort of a game (no, I’m not a sports watcher). In order to get into the stands, I had to go to the bowels of the facility to get a loan and the tickets. Was the loan for the ticket? I have no idea. I was led into a vault-ish area, which turned in to a pub-like place. Just after the transition, there was a BOOM! Aliens had landed. Someone taps my shoulder, and it’s Doctor Who (David Tennant‘s incarnation), with Captain Jack Harkness, and the weird little lizard engineer from the 2009 Star Trek movie. They are all at the ready to help defend the pub from the human-looking aliens. Peeled oranges are prepared to use as weapons. The lights flicker madly. The doors bust open…
And, I wake up.
I was supremely unamused. Everything was in technicolor.
There’s a story somewhere in this. Who are the aliens? Why do they look like us? Are they deathly allergic to citrus a la Dr. McKay of Star Gate: Atlantis? Why would I need a loan to get tickets to a sporting event I’m really not interested in?
This is why I write stories. If my brain won’t finish a dream, I’ll darn well finish it my way!
- Mastering the Art of Sleep (enfamil.com)
- If only I am awake when dreaming? (theway2fullconsciousness.wordpress.com)