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Dream Weaver….i believe we can reach the morning light

July 6, 2011

Last week when I sat down to write, I knew what I was going to say. Well, sort of.

I woke up that morning sure I’d come up with a brilliant idea as I was falling asleep the night before. I made a cup of tea and settled into the couch, ready to remember what it was. I thought, and thought (think, damnit!). I remembered. It was a dream. It was one of those dreams though. You know, a full-color, almost entirely believable dream. Unfortunately, said topic only made sense to those actually in the dream. Back to square one.

I’m notorious for talking while dreaming, often shouting HELP! in the middle of a scary dream or having a conversation with The Man, rendering him awake and confused.

While a student at UGA, three friends and I piled in the car for a road trip to an away football game. Once we got there, we ran into a large group of close friends (who happened to be guys) that had driven from Athens as well.

In typical male fashion, they didn’t really have a plan, which also meant they didn’t have a place to stay. Although we just had a standard hotel room we offered our floor to all eight guys.

Most of us were exhausted after a long day of tailgating, so we went back to the hotel early-ish to get some sleep. A few stayed out. We didn’t have an extra key; they would just knock when they got there. To sleep we went.

Several hours later, there was a knock at the door. Did I mention that the rest of us had been asleep for hours? Did I also mention that I’ve been known to talk while dreaming?

Upon hearing the knock, I started talking. I knew I was talking. Even worse, I knew my words were absolutely ridiculous. I’d swear there was a StopIt Fairy running in super slow motion toward me, yelling NOOOOOOOOOO in that deep molasses StopIt voice. But I couldn’t stop it.

Someone got up to answer the door. “It’s Dave’s dad,” I said emphatically. Silence. Everyone was so confused. Dave, who was of course with us, bolted up from his spot on the floor. Dave’s dad is a judge and he’d have no business showing up at our hotel room at 3 a.m. Someone finally said, “Why would Dave’s dad be here?”

Still in my sleepy stupor (say that three times quickly), I told them, “We owe him money. Twenty dollars. Just give him the money.” I could hear snickering, which made me mad, though I was still not quite awake. “I KNOW WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT,” I said angrily. More laughter.

I was finally completely awake. OMG. At that point, all I could do was lay there quietly and pretend I was sleeping. I had to go to the bathroom but there was no way I was getting up to face my audience. I held it and eventually went back to sleep. We still laugh, wondering what Dave must’ve thought when he first heard me announce that his father was at the door.

I really do love the fact that I have vivid dreams. They make sleep so much more exciting. I don’t like when I have to involve other people, though.

Yesterday when I woke up I recalled another dream about The Spirit. I emailed Amy [Christian] my article and she tersely replied, “This is a temporary gig. We will not need your article this week or any other week in the future.”

I hope that, in this case, dreams really don’t come true.

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One Comment leave one →
  1. Colleen permalink
    July 6, 2011 3:40 pm

    I have heard this story so many times I feel like I was on the floor of that hotel…and yet, it still makes me laugh. 🙂

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