Talk about days that get off to a bad start. When I stumbled out of bed this morning, for some stupid reason I entered the entirely wrong code in the alarm system. Result: it wouldn't disarm. Let it rest a while, went back, it still wouldn't disarm. Then, just as I called the company, it occurred to me I was entering an old code. But I had visioins of Scooby doing his "I have to pee" dance at the back door and me unable to open it. That crisis solved, I moved on and started to wash the big pot in which I fixed the pasta dish last night--result was I stopped up both kitchen sinks. The idea of using the plunger--which has been used elsewhere unsavory--didn't appeal to me, but my morning routine calls for washing my hair in the sink--a great dilemma. Finally got them to drain and moved on, but I did waste a lot of the early morning. Then at 7:30 Jordan called to say she was deathly ill--no, she didn't need anything. I think she just wanted me to worry, which I did. Later in the morning, she called to say she had strep throat and infected sinuses but the doctor, osteopathically faithful, did not give her antibiotics but wanted her to try some other things first. By the time I picked up papers from her office and took them to her house, she looked and sounded better--I passed them through the gate without physical contact--but said she still felt awful. No wonder I was glad to come home and work quietly at my desk with no one around me.
The good news of the day came from Houston. The second of Morgan's Sunday evening messages, which I couldn't understand, was to say, "We have power, Juju! We don't need the generator." I'm sure they're delighted to get their household back to normal.
Last night the subject of dreaming came up at dinner. Gayland never dreamed and always snored until his sleep apnea was diagnosed. Now he wears one of those devices at night, doesn't snore, and for the first time dreams. Katie and I both said we dream vividly, and Katie said that means we're getting sound sleep. She has something called cognitive dreaming--she can pick up a dream from the night before the next night. I don't do that, but if I get up in the night for some reason I can go right back into the dream I was having. And my dreams are always in color. Most of them stay with me for hours the next day, and I sometimes recount them to Melinda who is somewhat alarmed--especially by the one where a possum peed on her. Often I call tell where things in my dreams come from--something that happened during the day, something that's on my mind but sometimes they come out of the wild blue--like last night when I was at TCU working in a lab run by an old friend of my mom's who was a florist. I hadn't thought about her in years--was it the flowers Katie brought from her garden? I also have the recurring dreams most of us had. Katie and I both confessed to the one about it being time for finals and we haven't been to class, studied, don't know where the class meets, etc. I have another one--and had it last night--about being at TCU and not knowing where I parked my car, wandering all over the campus looking for it. And then instead of driving my car (which I found) I was riding a red trike. That, I'm sure, was because Saturday Elizabeth commented on how battered the red trike I keep for the grandkids is, and I told her to have some respect--it's as old as I am, though it wasn't mine, came from good friends. I don't put much faith in the websites that interpret dreams for you--all mine say I'm reliving my childhood insecurities which may well be true but is pretty prosaic. I'd like a little variety in interpretation, but I'm glad I dream, I'm glad I remember that, and I'm glad dreaming is a good sign.
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