Last night my cat was completely wackadoo! I went to bed early, hoping for a decent night’s sleep. Oh, what a crazy girl I was. Two hours into the night, TB and I both popped awake. We heard something. He went on full alert. I went back to sleep. Two hours later, he was flying across my body again. I don’t know what he heard, but I wasn’t too terribly happy. That one took over an hour before we fell back to sleep. No, I’ll re-state that … before I fell back to sleep. I’d given him access to the front porch and he was finally happy. One hour later, he thought it might be a good idea to come back to bed and curl up with me. Oh joy. An hour after that, he was ready to get things going for the day. Are you kidding me with this?
My dreams are the best. When I was up and down with the cat last night, I had a multitude of interesting and great dreams. I have no idea what they mean. Sometimes I recognize elements from things I’ve experienced in the last several days, other times I have absolutely no idea what to do with them.
At one point last night, I dreamt about teaching a piece of worship music to a musician friend of mine. It was gorgeous (at least it was in my dream). There was sheet music and everything! All of these great changes and chord structures. I kept telling her it was one of the most popular pieces in the worship arena right now and she needed to be sure to have it in her repertoire. She played through it on guitar and we sang it and in my dream, I knew that I needed to pay attention, because it would be important when I woke up.
… I have no idea. I sang it, I read the music … and … nothing. Sigh.
Just before my last wake-up with TB this morning, I had rather exciting dream about … well … sleeping and being awakened by a guy with a Harley. He was roaring that thing while coming in from his day. Windows were open because I could hear him (from my bedroom), talking to someone in Russian or something like that. What I heard him say in English was that his lover had just been killed and the person on the other end of the call needed to take care of the body, this guy didn’t have enough left in him to do that as well. I was so glad when he turned off his motorcycle and then on the other side of the street, another young woman was going to work. She came down from her apartment and … got on her motorcycle and roared away.
I have no idea where those sounds came from … it is absolutely quiet here in the country. There aren’t even any motorcycles that really live around me. Sometimes, in the middle of the summer, I’ll hear a few as their owners camp in the campgrounds, but not very often.
It makes me wonder what sensory input was happening to cause me to hear motorcycles roaring in my dreams.
So … tell me … was anyone else’s animal nuts last night? Was it the weather, the phase of the moon … or just TB?
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