I’m not crazy — I’m a superhero!

I had another crazy dream last night. In this one, my family had descended into the basement of a massive building – and then my husband began to dig his way through the wall (which was weirdly the consistency of wet sand). Doc created a tunnel that was perfectly rectangular (I was pretty impressed) and told me that he just had to dig seven miles (yes, SEVEN miles) in order to get to wherever he wanted to go. He was digging pretty fast, but the longer I waited at the mouth of the tunnel, the more nervous I became. Soon, I could no longer see him – just a long expanse of perfectly rectangular tunnel receding into the distance. About then, I started thinking: Doc was digging through what seemed to be wet sand, and he had not used any support beams or anything to support the tunnel, AND we were deep underground. I became very worried that the tunnel would collapse and he would be buried – and I certainly was not about to go INTO the tunnel, as I have a problem with tiny spaces. I started to yell at him to turn around and come back – and just about then I heard a muffled “THUMP” – and I woke up.

As I lay in bed, I tried to determine if the sound I had heard was the tunnel collapsing in my dream or if it had been a real life noise. If it was real life, what could it have been? I considered a band of unruly hooligans as the culprits, but it was 5:50am – still dark outside, but dawn was near – so I didn’t think anyone would break into the house at that time of the morning. Could it have been one of my cats jumping off the balcony ledge? For such small creatures, they are kind of hefty and not at all light on their feet. I finally decided it had been the front door and that my daughter must have had a 6am shift at work. But, of course, at that point I couldn’t go back to sleep. I had to get up and check to make sure my theory was correct – because there was a slim chance I could have been wrong about the unruly hooligans.

I went downstairs and found the front door unlocked and my daughter’s car gone from the driveway (note to self: discuss with daughter the dangers of leaving the front door unlocked while everyone in the house is asleep – because you never know when unruly hooligans may be about). I sat on the couch in the dark, a bit miffed that I was already up, and pondered why I am such a light sleeper. The slightest noise wakes me, even though I wear earplugs nightly. I have also been awakened by odors only I appear to smell – things like bacon, coffee, baking bread, and smoke (luckily, my house wasn’t on fire – in fact, in most cases, the smells are not even coming from inside my house). I’ve been told by ye old therapist that I’m “hyper-sensitive” to stimuli, such as sound, smell, and touch. What is interesting (at least to me – you may be bored out of your mind by this point), is that I’m usually just fine – and then suddenly, I’m NOT. For instance, I’ll be watching television and suddenly realize I can hear a sound that is NOT the program. I’ll mute the TV and say to Doc, “Can you hear that? What IS that?” Of course, Doc never can hear what I’m hearing, so I get “the look” until I determine that it is the toilet running, upstairs, in the back bathroom. Then Doc gives me another look (the one that says “What kind of super-hearing freak are you anyway?”) and gets up to fix the toilet.

Similarly, sometimes I’ll be watching television, just as content as can be…but suddenly, the volume (which hasn’t changed a bit) seems overwhelming to me! I’ll hit Doc and tell him to TURN IT DOWN, DAMMIT! That usually earns me another look – because where did THAT crazy come from? Or sometimes I’ll be at work and suddenly realize that my clothes seem like they are constricting and CRUSHING me! I have an overwhelming desire to strip naked at that very moment so that I can BREATHE! Unfortunately, stripping naked appears to be against company policy, but I have been known to make a quick trip to the restroom and at least divest myself of my bra.

I guess my ability to smell what others don’t, hear what others can’t, and my sensitivity to touch may be considered a special kind of crazy by some, but I prefer to put a positive spin on my…abilities. Maybe they are a kind of super power – with my super hearing, I might be able to find Timmy in that well when he calls for help; with my super smell, I might be able to act as a human smoke detector; with my super sensitivity to touch – well, I’m not sure how ripping one’s bra off in a millisecond might be beneficial to mankind, but if you have a suggestion on how I can use that particular power for good instead of evil, be sure to let me know.