|Morning glories on 8th Avenue in Brooklyn.|
Anxiety dreams are hella-unpleasant. I can ... scarcely again ... remember the last time I had a good dream. Right now, I am fortunate that I have a schedule that allows for afternoon naps when I often have good deep sleep. It certainly doesn't happen in da night. I remember fondly those days when I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow. These days, I would have to be liquored up or suitably prepped with a sleeping aid for that to happen.
Then the cats get all nocturnal on me. Cooder likes to get on top of the dresser, which is, of course, covered in detritus and other breakable things, and scratch on the mirror. Why? Or she scratches at the window close to my pillows. And then Emmylou gets on the bed just to harrass Cooder, sitting a foot or two away. Cooder growls. I wake up.
And then there is the unpleasantness of waking yourself up from an anxiety dream only to fall back asleep and have it again. Last night, my anxiety dream was about losing all of my jewelry. There must be something deep there right? The recurring fear that the "jewels" and valuables of my person have been stolen, are gone?
At any rate, I was awake before 6, and as I could see, well, not vestigal, must be nascent light, I thought I'd start my morning, maybe get a blog post in. Only Emmylou got up with me. Albert and Cooder, being more elderly critters (not saying anything about M and J here), are fast asleep. But after unloading the dishwasher, drinking my hot honey water, making breakfast (scrambled egg and toast), checking FB and doing a little outreach for a friend, cleaning up my kitchen mess, and checking in here, I think I am ready for a snooze. I don't have to do anything until 10.
Cooder and Emmylou were pleased to see me when I got back upstate. Emmy had lost her collar (one week old) and subsequently managed to break it. So now they are each sporting a collar, Cooder for the first time in her life. She took in in stride.
You all (two in particular) were so responsive to my last post, Mobile. It was not until this morning that I realized the mobility issue might be linked to my car. I was completely thinking about the emotional/spiritual/attitudinal aspects of getting around. At least, that was my conscious thought.