Is there anything more dismal than a post that starts with "I had a really funny dream last night"? I know I'd zap, so feel free.
In fact, I woke up to P. shaking me and urging me from what seemed like a great distance to "calm down, calm down". It seems I had been shouting out in my sleep. I'd been shouting for a very good reason — a cat-out-of-hell had just ambushed me from a great height and I couldn't get it off my back.
My question is this: a bit of my brain concocted that dream so why didn't it tell the rest of my brain what it was setting up? How did a cat that I created manage to take me by surprise and frighten the sleeping nightlights out of me? I can see only one explanation: one of my brains has decided to go it alone.
(Photo borrowed from a Flickr user but I forgot to note whom, sorry)
4 comments:
If anyone out there has an answer to that I'd also like them to explain to me just why you can't successfully tickle yourself.
Either studying quantum mechanics has gone to your head, or it was monosodium glutamate. We need to know what you had for dinner! (At least it wasn't a rat, in the dream, I mean).
That's a good point Sarah.
Deborah: Nothing unusual to eat. The funny thing is that I'm not particularly afraid of cats. But the dream was a bit more complicated than that. There was also a scene involving me pushing a pram down a street which I suspect I lifted directly from an episode of Desperate Housewives that I had just watched. And that in turn triggered a memory of taking Z out to dinner for the very first time to Joe's house and his cat perched on the sideboard looking down on the pram, and, in my imagination at least, almost licking his lips in anticipation.
"I can see only one explanation: one of my brains has decided to go it alone."
Thank you! I literally laughed out loud, which doesn't actually happen half as often as the number of times I find myself writing "lol".
I enjoyed that. :-)
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