Saturday, February 20, 2010


I've heard that it's healthy for your body to wake up at the same time every day, weekdays and weekends. I think that is a bunch of crap. I don't think my body was designed to wake up at five a.m. every day. Not that I don't get appropriate sleep during the week, either. I'm a sleep at least seven hours a night kind of girl. I think that is the recommendation, right?

When handsome's alarm goes off at 5:00 on Saturday mornings, I'll wake up, talk to him, wish him lots of love and miss you's and then when he leaves for work, I'll fall back asleep. I think it's my body's way of saying, damn, I'm tired. Some Saturdays I'll wake up around 7:30, sometimes later. This morning it was almost nine. Whenever it is, I feel like that's what my body needed.

Often, it is during those precious few hours of "nap time" that I have vivid dreams. Like this morning...

A series of three separate dreams clouded my subconscious this morning between 5:00 and 9:00 a.m. The setting was Las Vegas, I'm sure of it, although no neon was to be seen.

The first sequence was of me on a roof with a bunch of others. We were taking turns flying a glider off the roof and around the yard and landing back on the roof. I'm not sure if I had taken my turn yet but suddenly, I felt as though I was running out of time. I jumped in the glider and took off. It was delightful, that feeling of weightlessness, of freedom. All was dandy until I realized one thing: I didn't know squat about how to fly a glider.

A moment of panic while I steered and banked left and brought the building's roof into view. I glided right on to that roof and landed the plane without incident. I was exhilarated and more than proud of myself.

Shift into the next sequence, where I was trying to capture a photo of what appeared to be my class reunion's participants. Loads of people, and I was trying to find the best location. I wandered around an enormous hotel until I found a beautiful, empty marble staircase. At my direction, everyone was lining up on the stairs while I was keeping them in the camera's viewfinder. I kept checking the shot while more and more people joined in the photo. Lots of noise and chattering and I was giddy at the thought of capturing all that energy on film.

There were several people who should have been in the picture but were in different areas of the hotel and I was trying to gather all of them before I lost the opportunity to take the shot. I got a few, but before I could snap the picture, a bell sounded, as though classes were changing. I glanced at the clock on the wall which said it was early afternoon, and I couldn't understand what was happening.

All of a sudden people from all over started walking through the hotel, up and down the stairs, infiltrating my group and my photo opportunity. Someone was trying to direct the reunion participants to be still and shift to their right, over by the wall. They were distracted, though, and I knew I wouldn't get the picture. I was crestfallen.

Shift again to a hotel room the likes of which I've never seen. The inhabitants were of the variety that spent weeks there, or maybe the room was theirs if they ever needed a place to stay while in Vegas. Very classy. The man and woman were both in silk smoking jacket/wraps and she was in the bed talking with one of her lady friends.

Handsome was with me in the room, we sat on a chaise lounge while the man sipped his brandy and handled his wooden cane. He was talking to Handsome about a financial problem Cousin W had found himself in. With his cane, he poked a sleeping Doberman who lay snoring under our seat. I hadn't even noticed the dog until the man started talking about how some people hurt the animals of people who owe money. Then he unfastened the end of the cane which held a needle-sharp point and went to poke it at the dog.

I realized that Cousin W had gotten himself indebted to the mafia and wondered what our role in that was. I started thinking about whether and how we would bail him out but hadn't any clue how deep in he was. I thought if it was less than $10K, I could probably get a cash advance on my credit card and pay the mafioso standing before me. As I began to think in that both irrational but logical way, I woke up.

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