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120% confused. again.

October 7, 2011

Recently I was telling a friend about my dreams. Not like the “someday I’ll grow up and cure athlete’s feet” kind of dreams. I’m talking about the kind of dreams that cause you to wake up and realize you’ve shaved the cat while sleeping, kind of dreams.

In fact, just last night I woke up mere inches away from Chris’s face, stroking his arms and trying to get him to take his “ba ba”, because why wouldn’t I?

I mention my dreams because not only are they totally insanity crazy nutso, but they are also very vivid. Full color and smell-o-vision. I taste, I see, I hear, I feel emotions, as if it’s really real. And to make it even better, I’m ever constant with my sarcastic humor. Even whilst sleeping. So you can understand when sometimes after awakening, I have a hard time determining what has been reality and what has been conjured up in the deep dark depths of my brain.

Last week, merely 7 days after the missing persons fiasco of 2011, I was eye ball deep in the middle of a very realistic dream concerning myself and Judah staying in our house alone for the weekend while Chris was away with a work conference. So you can imagine my surprise when at 2 am the downstairs shower kicked on along with several of the living room lights. Before I realized what was really happening I was lumbering, stumbling, falling down our bedroom steps, ready to attack whatever intruder had found his way into my bathroom!

Only before any attacking could occur, Chris met me in front of the bathroom wanting to know what in hades had caused me to come yelling down the bedroom stairs at 2 AM. I proceeded to scream at my dear husband, letting him know that I did NOT appreciate him coming home early without telling me. Because, “HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW YOU WEREN’T A BEAR?”.

Let’s keep in mind .. at this point in the conversation, I am still 100% asleep and Christopher is 120% confused. It wasn’t until about the 12th time that I let him know just how unhappy I was with him being home that I began to wake up and realize what had happened. My poor insomniac husband had given up trying to understand my mumbled diatribe on the importance of not pretending to be an intruder, and finally got in his shower.

Trying to save face, I made some excuse about needing to brush my teeth before going back to bed (for the second time of the evening). Only I fell asleep again after about 29 seconds of brushing. Next thing I know, I’m in bed chewing a mouthful of Colgate and trying to decipher how much of what just happened was real and what was a dream gone horribly bad.

I tried to play it off the next day, but of course Chris can’t let anything slide. As if I needed more fodder for his endless argument against my sanity.

P.S.  Last night I dreamt that while attending my grown child’s school play, we were attacked by terrorists. Only I knew a secret passage out of the building by way of a hidden cave system. I tried taking Juliette Genteman with me..but she was all giggles because she apparently thought the jihadists were playing a game. Only when I finally escaped and came back with police assistance, it turned out they actually were a little less than serious in their endeavors to terrorize. In fact, my ex husband (who doesn’t even exist) had led them to Christ and they had become covenant members of our local church. And so because I had built myself up to really feel like a hero, in my disappointment, I went next door to the outdoor bar and got drunk on diet coke.

See what I’m saying…sometimes it’s hard to know if what I have dreamed has really happened. Because it seems so logical.

pray for me,
Your Sassy Bella

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