I had a weird, weird dream yesterday.
First, a little background.
I’ve been having terrible headaches lately as a spate of weather fluctuations roll through our happy little corner of the world’s cesspool. Those pressure and temperature changes very often cause sinusitis and its associated pressure, pain and stuffiness. And if I’m really unlucky and not paying enough attention to what’s going on with my sinuses, I’ll get a full-blown, can’t stop the rock, OMG the lights are stabbing my brain, DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO EFFING LOUD, feels like I’m giving birth through my eyeball migraine.
Been fightin’ ‘em all my life, and mostly over the last 15 years, I’m winning. Last couple of days, though, the changes come fast and hard and soon as I’m aware I have a headache it’s happily hurtling like a runaway freight train toward threshold.
Okay, so the last couple of days have been real fun for me. Oh, and for the kids and the wife too. I’m in such a grand, jovial and playful mood when I have a headache and as I recover.
When I feel them coming on, I have a tendency to overreact, and slam a ton of meds down my throat. That generally induces a coma later, when all the chemicals begin their barbiturate action. And when I hit the pillow and am merciful unconsciousness, I typically don’t dream. (Drugs like this tend to impair REM sleep anyway.)
Well, not so yesterday afternoon (as you read this).
I dreamed of being on something like a mushroom chair, in the back room of a house surrounded by a majestic pine wood or redwood forest. The rust-colored needles all over the soft, spongy ground, the slate-gray sky, and somewhere nearby, the smell of water. A lake house? It might’ve been an A-frame, but I can’t be sure. I laid in a room between the main house and the exterior. I saw a gash open in the wall over my head and to the side, and saw movement beyond it. Someone out there, but they seemed to be knocking, or seeking permission to enter. (It’s a dream, I don’t know.) Then I saw them turn over a table and leave it on the back porch. A moment later the visitor left.
My wife came in and I asked if she’d ordered a table. In a resigned, disappointed voice she told me no, she’d paid the neighbor a dollar to deliver his old one. I thought the tone of her voice indicated she was … angry? disappointed and ashamed? of me. I felt bad in the dream.
I saw two cars at the end of our drive, but never went into the house. Instead I walked across toward the end of the drive and noticed the neighboring house. Somehow I understood we had dwelled in it once, and said something like “Someone finally moved in that place?” to my wife. She said nothing. She still seemed angry/hurt/disappointed.
I remember being afraid of the lake. I wanted to fish, but was afraid of what I might catch, if anything. (I remember being dubious about there being anything alive in the jade green waters at all.) Instead, I saw someone else fishing, and I skirted barefoot (??? I’d never be caught dead outside barefooted, EVER) around the lake shore, muddy and dark, my feet sinking into the muck as I retreated to our house. I was afraid my wife would be angry again if she saw my feet, so I tried wiping them as I went along, but it didn’t work.
When I got back to the house, the geography wasn’t the same as when the neighbor dropped off the table. There wasn’t a long drive; the room where I slept when the neighbor brought the table sat a couple of feet from the water now, with only a short walk made of broken concrete slabs in front of what appeared to be more like a garage.
Then, I woke up after explaining to my wife the mud on my feet was from the lake.
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