You know those odd, disjointed, meaningless dreams that plaque you when your running a fever, over medicated, or not sleeping enough? Yeah, those dreams.
I searched the Internet for some reason for them and the best answer I came up with was this:
When you're sick, your body chemistry is often out of balance.
It's not uncommon for this to cause neurons in the brain to
trigger random memory fragments, which your subconscious
then tries to piece together into a coherent whole.
While this is going on, other parts of the brain
which are related to emotions are also being randomly stimulated.
This can sometimes create very emotionally intense and frightening dreams.
Here are just two of the weird dreams I've had the last few days.
The In Laws Furniture
My mother- and father-in-law have a nice house with a white leather couch and chair in their living room. In fact, white describes most of their interior decorating scheme. As I have a natural sense of "messy" about me, as well as dogs and a small child, I have often felt intimidated by their white world.
They are very stable and settled in life at this point. Both retired. Both very organized. It's like they have reached a pinnacle in life; the white zone. While my life continues to be one upheaval after another; sort of a mud zone. I guess I'm a little afraid I'm going to leave tracks while at their house or something.
Regardless, back to the dream. I dreamt that after a get together at their house I was responsible for cleaning their 3 leather couches. Yes, the couches multiplied. They also changed color: their was one white, one cream, and one brown couch. For some unimaginable reason I had to drive each couch out to some odd location and drop it off.
I mean really "odd" location. Each couch was basically dropped off along the side of a road. I only remember one location exactly and it was along the frontage road of I-35 just past the new shopping center at Slaughter. I loaded the couches up one at a time into my small SUV. Yes, they magically fit. Then I drove them to weird locations and unloaded them carefully. Once I had them setting up right in the grass, gravel, dirt or whatever; I drove away.
Well, I mostly drove away. For some reason I took I knife and sliced the seats on two of the couches. Not with anger or in a destructive mood. It felt like I was going to have to reupholster the seats and they needed to be cut open. But I didn't reupholster them, I calmly drove off and got another couch.
After unloading all the couches to be cleaned I went home. Then Steve and I went back to get the couches from the side of the road. By this time I was frantic about the two couches I had slashed, wondering what the hell I had done. But when we showed up at the three locations to get the couches they were all gone. All of a sudden, every thing I had done seemed odd and unexplainable and it freaked me out so bad it woke me up.
Sent Down the River
I remember having this dream at least three times in the last few years. But only once during this cold.
Our neighbor across the street is named Scott and he is probably one of Steve's closest friends at this time in his life. I have a hard time liking Scott; he's like a Stefford wife, except for the fact he's very controlling of his family and environment. Everyone in his life does what he wants and I guess that freaks me out a little. He also seems to think that Steve belongs to him. He will call Steve over to help with every little thing he does. And regardless of what Steve and I have planned, Steve will go.
A good "for instance" is yesterday. Monday was the first day during my illness that Will and I were alone, and it was a bad day. Since I didn't go grocery shopping during the weekend like normal on the weekend, there was nothing to eat in the house. Will and I lived off of ice cream and Ramon noodles waiting for Steve to come home and make a run to the store for us. Steve came home and had to run look at a job; which from his explanation of the job probably wouldn't have taken 1/2 an hour to do . . . but he took Scott. Steve was gone almost one and half hours.
During which time I was starving, actually getting dizzy. Will was whining for something to eat. I didn't want to make anything, knowing Steve would be right back and make dinner for us . . . so I waited. I finally made us some more Ramon. When Steve got home he said Scott wanted to stop and look at a car on their way back. I asked Steve, "Didn't you tell him you had a sick wife at home?". Steve said he had.
This instance probably says more about why I dislike Scott than anything else I could think of. I'm not ever sure it's Scott or Steve's reactions when he's with Scott that I dislike so strongly.
Regardless, about the dream. The dreams is always set back in colonial times. I'm always way over dressed in the heat with a long dress, aprons, a bonnet, you name it. A party is taking place, but only men are allowed. Steve and Scott are laughing and drinking beer; which oddly is in a can. (Cheap bastards.)
The party seems to be held in a cavern of some sort with a river running through it. Their are other people in the back ground but I am only aware of Scott and Steve as they kindly lead me to a small boat, hardly larger than a canoe. Nothing is said, but I know I have to leave. I can't stay and I don't even attempt to do so. I crawl into the boat, Steve kisses my cheek, and I paddle away.
That is pretty much the start of the dream each time I have it. The remainder changes a little and is more vague. But essentially, I spend hours if not days running a gauntlet of scary, trying, and life-threatening experiences on the river before reaching some place safe. I'll evade attackers, almost drown, go over waterfalls, sail through storms, be shot at. And all the time, it is like I can hear the party still going on in the back ground. People still laughing, drinking. So close I can hear them, but they are totally unaware of turmoil.
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