Untitled Due to Lack of Creativity
Earlier today, I sat at my keyboard with vivid awareness of my cold head. This morning, I didn't have enough time to thoroughly dry my mop of hair and why not? you ask. Because I woke up at 5:15 a.m. when my husband's alarm went off. Because I woke up at 6:07 a.m. when the unplugged, yet still functioning, extra alarm clock went off. Because I woke up at 7:18 a.m. from a terrible dream when my daughter woke up. Because my daughter insisted on having a bath first thing this morning. And so, I ran the bath-water and reclined on my bed and watched morning television while she frolicked.
And I contemplated my bad dream. First, in my dream, a good friend gave me the silent treatment because I got rid of an item she loaned me. Of course, that didn't really happen, but still. Then, in my dream, I went to a wedding where I had to sit with the other guests on risers in a classroom and when I went to the bathroom, all sixteen of the toilets were overflowing and THEN and ONLY then, I noticed I had a giant purple towel on my head and no make-up on and hey, where are my clothes? When I opened a closet, I found a comforter I used to own and then I woke up.
That was the first time I've had an anxiety dream about being a wedding guest. Usually my anxiety dreams are all about wandering a campus, looking for a classroom, knowing full well that I have played hooky all year and that I am ill-prepared for the final exam.
So, my wet hair. I didn't have time to dry it because I had to get downstairs--quick!--to clean up choking hazards (aka Playmobil people) and vacuum thoroughly because the toddler would be here today for the first time in a couple of weeks. And he eats leaves and marbles and unpopped popcorn kernels. Don't ask me how I know.
At one point this afternoon, I had to count on my fingers to figure out how many kids were here. I used all my fingers, but thankfully, none of my toes.
As for my mood-swing yesterday . . . nothing cures a funk like perspective. Today, I received a letter from an incarcerated woman I know. She has five more years to serve. Yesterday, my husband told me about a high-school classmate of his who has a fourteen year old daughter battling cancer. Her prognosis is grim. And what about those miners? This world is so sad sometimes.
Oh. And wasn't that a cheerful wrap-up to a Thursday night? You're welcome.
And I contemplated my bad dream. First, in my dream, a good friend gave me the silent treatment because I got rid of an item she loaned me. Of course, that didn't really happen, but still. Then, in my dream, I went to a wedding where I had to sit with the other guests on risers in a classroom and when I went to the bathroom, all sixteen of the toilets were overflowing and THEN and ONLY then, I noticed I had a giant purple towel on my head and no make-up on and hey, where are my clothes? When I opened a closet, I found a comforter I used to own and then I woke up.
That was the first time I've had an anxiety dream about being a wedding guest. Usually my anxiety dreams are all about wandering a campus, looking for a classroom, knowing full well that I have played hooky all year and that I am ill-prepared for the final exam.
So, my wet hair. I didn't have time to dry it because I had to get downstairs--quick!--to clean up choking hazards (aka Playmobil people) and vacuum thoroughly because the toddler would be here today for the first time in a couple of weeks. And he eats leaves and marbles and unpopped popcorn kernels. Don't ask me how I know.
At one point this afternoon, I had to count on my fingers to figure out how many kids were here. I used all my fingers, but thankfully, none of my toes.
As for my mood-swing yesterday . . . nothing cures a funk like perspective. Today, I received a letter from an incarcerated woman I know. She has five more years to serve. Yesterday, my husband told me about a high-school classmate of his who has a fourteen year old daughter battling cancer. Her prognosis is grim. And what about those miners? This world is so sad sometimes.
Oh. And wasn't that a cheerful wrap-up to a Thursday night? You're welcome.
posted by Melodee at Thursday, January 05, 2006
7 Comments:
I have a very similar dream about college, only I haven't really been playing hooky. I'm on my way to a gigantic test when I suddenly remember that oh.my.God I've forgotten to go to school ALL year.
There is a gloominess to things lately. Here too. My posts haven't been happy either. We are on day 17 or 18 now without sun. It does a number on the psychie, I tell'ya!
Hugs Melodee! Hugs :)
I wanted to center my name on my blog and now I see that the center tags are showing when you put me on your side bar. I must remedy that. And girl you need to quit eating pickles or whatever it is you eat to cause those dreams! LOl
I also have had more than one dream about public bathrooms and overflowing toilets - what on earth could it mean??? I'm sure some dream interpretation book would have to know.
Hmmm. My dream is always that either I cannot find a bathroom, or I do, and it is a men's room.
The purple towel is disturbing.
At least, disturbing to me.
Do you own purple towels?
If you do, you may want to consider this dream a warning that nothing good can ever come of owning purple towels.
Yes, it is hard to feel sorry for one's self this week, after reading and watching the mining tragedy. It's only several hours, by car, from here. I cried when I saw the scribbled last words, enlarged on the front page of the paper.
Not hopeless, accepting, loving. Courageous.
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