Some great person somewhere said something awesome about keen observation. However, that great person never lived in my brain and had to watch my dreams.
As an observer, I would think I would have taken in more details, remembered more. I know the dream was full of awesome, but for some reason only the very end of this particular one is coming to me. Three men - a father and his two grown sons wearing pants with suspenders, but pulled all the way up to their chest. Imitating - imitating the grandfather, they were using their old voice and stumbling around. One picked up what looked like a Dr. Suess book but was written by someone else and began to make fun of it before throwing it away. The other grandson picked up a book called "I like Dinasaurs" and was about to toss it before he realized how much it had meant to him as a child.
Sudden pain shooting out my eye. I wake up and realize that my contacts are killing me and they must come out immediately! I get up take them out and go back to sleep, hoping to go back to the men but I don't.
Instead I am at "home" and yet I've never seen the home before. I set the table and we eat. But then I'm walking in to "home" again and it's a different place and there are some friends of mine - one who has brain cancer and her family. And in the dream I am a part of this close family and we decide to go for a drive although looking around there must be 10 people there and my vehicle will only hold 8.
"Home" again and it is at the farm and yet it's not. I still don't recognize the place but this is where my parents live and they want me to buy the guest house next door. Oh I don't have to live in it now, they insist, but I want to keep it in the family, right? And Grandma is selling it for only $100,000 and I should jump on that. After all, if someone else buys it, who knows who would end up living on the farm. And no one wants strangers there. I pitch the idea to my husband. He insists it is way too small, but I tell him we can just take out that wall and make the two small bedrooms upstairs into one large bedroom and then the two bedrooms downstairs would be plenty for the kids. But no, he says that wall can't just be knocked down. I'm sad, very sad.
I hate sad dreams! I hate them more than I hate creepy dreams. Okay, I guess the second is more of a love/hate, but sad dreams are just a hate.
ReplyDeleteCan't speak for your dreams, but IRL, I think you're a spectacular observer.
Do you really wear contacts? I did not know that.
I really do wear contacts except today I am wearing my glasses. My vision is bad, very bad. -475 which means that when I see something 20 feet away, it looks as though it is 475 feet away...
ReplyDeleteAnd yeah, it was odd although I kind of know where the wanting the house part came from. A friend of mine just put her house on the market and we LOVE it, but know we can't afford it so that is sad...