For as long as I can remember, I’ve had entertaining dreams. Full color, action packed, thought-provoking, movie-like dreams. In fact, if there were academy awards for dreams, I would have a bed full of the little gold guys!
Often, I wake up exhausted from all of the physical feats and ass-kicking I’ve done for 6-7 hours in my dreams. Sometimes, I wake with my heart pounding, terrified by a menacing figure or catastrophic event. The worst is when I am jolted awake by the phone or the incessant need to pee – right before the climatic (sometimes literally) ending – and then when I finally drift off again, the dream is elusive and refuses to pick up where it left off – and I’m left frustrated and unfulfilled (again, sometimes literally).
My dreams are so vivid when I wake up that I can’t imagine forgetting them. I mean, did you forget the plot of Star Wars after seeing it? I can still quote most of that movie and see my favorite scenes in my head! But, inevitably, a few minutes or hours after waking from my dream, the details would become blurry and sometimes I would forget everything.
I’ve often thought that my dreams would make a great book – or at least an anthology of stories – but that forgetting nonsense was getting in the way of me penning my great American novel. So, I decided to keep a notebook and pen by my bed so that I could jot down key points immediately upon waking, while the plot and action points were still fresh in my mind. I’d wake up to pee and spend a few seconds scrawling bullet points in the notebook before falling asleep again – and in the morning, I’d find profound statements waiting to spark my creative genius. Things like, “The flowerbox was a horse,” “Dented cars everywhere,” and “Purple pants. PURPLE PANTS!”
Before long, I realized that either my dreams were not as exciting as they seemed to be while I was in REM sleep – or I wasn’t coherent enough in my post-sleep haze to accurately record the salient details. Either way, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to get rich from writing about my dreams. Still – every so often, I have a dream so outrageous, so exciting, so heartbreaking, or so deep that I still think, “This is a great story – I need to write about this!”
That was the case a few weeks ago – as soon as I woke up, I grabbed my phone and typed in the highlights of the dream – convinced that they would help me remember the whole story later on. And then I promptly forgot all about it – until I was adding a note to my phone today and came across them:
HUGE Hefner
Mask, wig, stockings, puts on silky robe
Going to Florida for Christmas
Packing my stuff – needing a duffel
Called a cab
The details of this particular dream are sketchy, but here is what I do remember:
I walked into the bathroom to find Doc just getting out of the shower – he was wearing a woman’s wig and had a mud mask on his face. As we talked, he slipped on a silky robe and put on women’s stockings. I remember being shocked that he was a cross-dresser, as I had never seen any sign of it during our marriage (Disclaimer: Remember this is a dream. As far as I know, Doc is not and has never been a cross-dresser).
I don’t remember our exact conversation – but I was upset and felt betrayed. Doc didn’t want to be with me anymore (I think we all know where that came from). However, he kept telling me I didn’t need to worry, because he knew for a fact that Huge Hefner was interested in me. He did not say HUGH Hefner – he said “HUGE Hefner.” I remember thinking (in the dream) that Huge must be a porn star or a giant – I didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended.
The rest is fuzzy – apparently one of us was going to Florida for Christmas and, if I remember correctly, he was packing up my stuff and needed an extra duffel bag to get everything to fit. A cab was called – for him? For me? I guess we’ll never know.
What kind of dreams do you have? Have you ever woken up exhausted because of your dreams? Do you think Huge was a giant or a porn star (or something else entirely?)
The dreams I hate most are the ones that wake you from fear. The nightmares, you can’t escape, you are falling, he’s attacking… those ones. It can take several minutes if not hours to shake the emotion.
I’ve also written Nobel worthy blog posts in my dreams and tell myself, remember this, it’s good. Of course, upon waking? Nothing. Nada. Zip.
*sigh*
I know JUST what you mean! I had a nightmare over two decades ago that is just as clear and scary today as it was then! In it, my two youngest daughters (who were very small at the time) had drowned and I discovered their bodies in the pool. They were wearing clothes that they owned and wore all the time (I still vividly remember Daughter #2’s little lavender sweat pants). I woke up with my heart about to beat out of my chest and trying to catch my breath – on the verge of tears. It was just horrible. And you’re right – a nightmare like that does impact your whole day!
I have a bizarre recurring dream about a pink and black bathroom. In my dream, I take a shower and when I get out of the shower, I remember that I have this really great, huge bathroom. The walls and floor and ceiling are pink tiles and the tub and toilet and sink are black. The tub is round and enormous. There is always dust in the tub because I never remember that I have it. One night…I will bathe in that damn tub…oh yes I will..
Recurring dreams are so strange! I have “radio dreams” and in them, I’m a disc jockey again and having trouble speaking, finding the right song to play, etc – I end up having the dreaded “dead air” and it’s SO stressful! I also have dreams where the car I am in is careening out of control, usually going backwards, and the brakes are not working. I know when I start having either of those dreams that I’m having too much stress in my life and things are feeling out of control. Interestingly enough – I have not had either dream since my husband left me. Hmmmmm…
Recently I dreamed that my female friend and I were talking and she was sad. For some reason, she was laying next to me in my bed and she was crying. So I rolled onto my side and put my arm around her. I then woke up in shock because when I touched her, I didn’t touch her shirt, I touched bare skin!
I had put my arms around my husband in my sleep lol
Those times when dreams and real life mix together are so strange! Like when your phone or alarm rings in the dream – and after a bit you realize it is really ringing in real life! Or when someone in the dream throws their hand across your mouth and you’re freaking out – only to wake up and realize it is YOUR hand – it’s just numb from being slept on wrong. I’ve got another blog post percolating in my mind about that kind of dreaming.
I scared myself SO bad when I was a teenager with the numb hand thing. I could feel it brushing my face, but I was scared to open my eyes because I thought it was someone else. I finally started to get feeling back in my hand and realized I was caressing my own face.
Some of my dreams have been absolutely psychadelic! I could type great, ludicrous tracts on them, but they’re rarely boring, and a lot of them seem to involve fire, somehow…
Apparently, dreaming about fire can symbolize destruction, passion, desire, illumination, transformation, enlightenment, or anger (if you believe in that sort of thing). If that is the case, I should be dreaming about nothing BUT fire 🙂
I dream about Peyton Manning a lot…….
I am so far behind and am so glad I picked tonight to catch up on your blog! You’re killing me…in a good way.
Peyton Manning? So….are you a “receiver” in these dreams??
You are a lucky one. Rarely are my dreams cool, like the one about the front-loading washing machine that was both a rocket and a time machine. Or the time I broke out into “Surfin’ U.S.A.” in the high school cafeteria, danced on all the tables, and my classmates joined me for some reason. Otherwise, they are just bizarre, bizarre, bizarre, and not in a cool way.
Rockets and time machines — both are super cool! You should blog about that!
I had a dream that I really, savagely, beat the hell out of Robin Hood. I don’t remember what he was trying to steal from me, but I beat him to a bloody pulp!
As you should…unless you are incredibly wealthy, because then he was just doing his whole “steal from the rich, give to the poor” thing. If he was stealing from the poor (or even the middle class) –well then, he had it coming!
I think I’m on the lower part of Middle Class. I was just saying to my co-workers, if they raise the min wage in IL to what they’re talking about in the news, then I’ll be better off flipping burgers!