Not only am I a peaceful sleeper, but I’ve been blessed, thus far, with the ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. I put my head on my pillow and literally go to sleep. I never thought this was strange until I started hearing from friends and roommates how much difficulty they had falling, or staying, asleep. I guess I always knew that my Mom suffered from sleeping problems, but when I was younger I assumed that my Father’s snoring was the culprit of all her sleep related problems. Simple logic, eh?
Eleanor, Tigger and I went to Buffalo for a weekend trip last fall, and before heading out for the night we decided to take a nap. So, lights go out, I fall asleep – you know, napping! When the alarm goes off an hour later, I wake up to two very irritated friends. Apparently the sounds of me sleeping (very obvious change in my regular breathing, to seconds later deep sleeping breath) make it even harder for them to focus on sleep so they don’t manage to do anything but lie there while I’ll rack up some sleep time. Whoops. But I can hardly be blamed for this. It also explains why – with a heavy association with alcohol – I wake up in strange places, like on the stairs, sometimes.
This all came to mind this morning, thanks to a rare and particularly affected evening of sleep. I was definitely not akin to a dead person last night. This was evident by the distinct knotting pattern in my sheets this morning and the few wake ups I received by a none-too-please kitty who much prefers my usual evening stillness. I also had a slew of crazy dreams that have had my mind going all day. I generally find that if I think about it enough, the main aspect of my dreams are in direct association to stuff that’s been on my mind – which I assume is probably true for everyone, but I thrive in finding the connection:
- One segment had me participating in some variety of theatre that was mix of my recent Cirque experience and the All Male Revue we took Betty and Veronica to on their Bachelorette – I’ll leave it at that
- I was helping out some Paramedics with some sort of emergency and using my old Athletic Therapy kit – which undoubtedly has been on my mind thanks to my current foot taping needs
- Many characters throughout my dreams were previous coworkers, which I’m sure highlights my uncertainty at the office these days
- The final scene, prior to waking (late as usual) involved someone eerily similar to my ex, I’ll call him Camper, whom I just communicated with this past weekend for the first time in a few years
I don’t have heavy dream evenings like this very often, so I get a little wrapped up in them when I do. Unfortunately, some of my dreaming was overshadowed in the early hours of the morning by (I’m assuming here…) a neighbourhood Crack Head, screaming loudly at either himself or some phantom. Most of it was jibberish, but he ended off with a slur of expletives, that slowly faded out when he wandered off the street. Even little Prince William, who was tucked under my arm, seemed to visibly roll his eyes at the intrusion – and didn’t get up to peer out the window as usual.
Sleeping like the dead definitely has its advantages.