I dreamed a dream

Given the gravity of what Seth Meyers refers to as a television series called “As the World Burns” on his skit, A Closer Look, I thought I would share the details I can recall from my dream last night in order to provide an ounce of levity in a heavy time.

I remember snippets of details from one REM cycle to the next, but I have absolutely no idea from where some of these images derive in my daily life.

Just to give you an idea:

Last night, I dreamed that I visited a doctor on several occasions because I was experiencing contractions (apparently, in this dream I was also pregnant). On each visit to the doctor’s office, I had to walk through the perfume section of a department store. I was led by a male doctor in white scrubs to a wall lined with perfumes from floor to ceiling. He gently pressed the wall, and it turned out to be a hidden a doorway to lead to the doctor’s office.

As if this were not strange enough, the doctor’s exam table was set on a large football field with people running track around the outer edge. I had to sit on the exam table (and yes, there were foot stirrups…because it wasn’t humiliating enough to be sitting in a gown with an open back while people jog around you) in the middle of the field. At one point, I beamed over to a group of runners who were waiting their turn. No idea how I got there.

After staying at this “office” for several nights to be monitored by the doctor, it was determined that I was experiencing a “hysterical pregnancy” (yes, hilarious) and that I could go home. I recall worrying about the cost of the visit but trying to relax since at least I was in Belgium and not the United States.

End Scene.

I can recall at some point visiting a café or bar in a city, but otherwise the rest of my REM is fairly vague. Even just this strange vignette has me completely nonplussed. I know that my biological clock can go a bit haywire at certain times of the month. Sometimes, my hormones practically scream at me that I must conceive a child NOW NOW NOWWWWWWW!

When my moon begins each month, I feel a simultaneous disappointment and extreme sense of relief. While I do have a deep, raw longing to hug a being in need to my chest, I prefer one with fur and four legs, to be honest. I imagine this baby snuggling its head beneath my chin and becoming my shadow as my wolf dog Okami once was. I miss my shadow.

At least in my dream I did not give birth to a baby wolf, though I wouldn’t put it past my subconscious. When I remind my husband that I have no baby and would like a wolf baby, he reminds me that life is long.

I wonder how many odd dreams I will sleep through before a wolf comes into my life once more?

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