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revdorothyl at 08:09pm on 30/08/2004
revdorothyl at 08:09pm on 30/08/2004I slept so soundly this morning that I don't even remember hearing the alarm go off at 7 AM and turning it off (which I must have done, 'cause I know I set it last night). First thing I knew, it was 8:51 AM, and I'd missed a chunk of the morning's first Highlander episode because I hadn't gotten up in time to change the tape (so much for my "taping Highlander ensures that I'll get up before 8 AM hypothesis"!).
Since I'd gone to bed before 11 PM last night and hadn't slept badly, my having overslept the alarm without becoming consciously aware of it struck me as even weirder than usual. (In addition to being a natural morning person, I've always been a very light sleeper -- and even more so after I woke up to find a burglar robbing my family's home just after my 11th birthday!) Stranger yet, I woke up remembering pretty clearly some very weird dreams (the kind where it takes you a moment or two upon waking to realize that all that stuff you were just doing WAS only a dream, and that you haven't actually lived the days and events you're remembering).
Maybe I'm still having medication issues (what with this Pseudohypoparathyroidism stuff, as well as the usual depression problems). Or maybe I'm actually getting better (having slept deeply enough to actually have a dream cycle and remember it -- I had wondered, from time to time, if my excessive weariness might not be related to changes in my ability to achieve REM sleep).
In any case, the dreams weren't particularly disturbing (though I may want to analyze them for Freudian or Jungian content in my dream journal later on). But I'm tempted to start writing something really wild, now, in order to try to steer any future dreams into more satisfying and wish-fulfilling directions.
I'm picturing an epic poem (something on the order of The Iliad, perhaps, or The Canterbury Tales) recounting the superheroic outer-space adventures of "RevD and HarleyMan!" (see The Nice Man on the Harley Got Me to the Church on Time for background details).
On a quiet Sunday morning, in a wild and lonely place,
I found myself quite stranded on the road.
With very little warning, and not a bit of grace,
My trusty car had died near no abode.
Desperately I pleaded, with wide eyes and worried brow,
For some kind soul to help me on my way.
And I got just what I needed (as I fully realize now)
When "the HarleyMan" roared up and saved my day.
HarleyMan, O HarleyMan, in leather cool and black.
HarleyMan, O HarleyMan, like Shane won't you come back?
[to be continued . . . Any suggestions for future verses/adventures of "RevD and the HarleyMan" would be welcome]
Since I'd gone to bed before 11 PM last night and hadn't slept badly, my having overslept the alarm without becoming consciously aware of it struck me as even weirder than usual. (In addition to being a natural morning person, I've always been a very light sleeper -- and even more so after I woke up to find a burglar robbing my family's home just after my 11th birthday!) Stranger yet, I woke up remembering pretty clearly some very weird dreams (the kind where it takes you a moment or two upon waking to realize that all that stuff you were just doing WAS only a dream, and that you haven't actually lived the days and events you're remembering).
Maybe I'm still having medication issues (what with this Pseudohypoparathyroidism stuff, as well as the usual depression problems). Or maybe I'm actually getting better (having slept deeply enough to actually have a dream cycle and remember it -- I had wondered, from time to time, if my excessive weariness might not be related to changes in my ability to achieve REM sleep).
In any case, the dreams weren't particularly disturbing (though I may want to analyze them for Freudian or Jungian content in my dream journal later on). But I'm tempted to start writing something really wild, now, in order to try to steer any future dreams into more satisfying and wish-fulfilling directions.
I'm picturing an epic poem (something on the order of The Iliad, perhaps, or The Canterbury Tales) recounting the superheroic outer-space adventures of "RevD and HarleyMan!" (see The Nice Man on the Harley Got Me to the Church on Time for background details).
On a quiet Sunday morning, in a wild and lonely place,
I found myself quite stranded on the road.
With very little warning, and not a bit of grace,
My trusty car had died near no abode.
Desperately I pleaded, with wide eyes and worried brow,
For some kind soul to help me on my way.
And I got just what I needed (as I fully realize now)
When "the HarleyMan" roared up and saved my day.
HarleyMan, O HarleyMan, in leather cool and black.
HarleyMan, O HarleyMan, like Shane won't you come back?
[to be continued . . . Any suggestions for future verses/adventures of "RevD and the HarleyMan" would be welcome]
weird
(no subject)
(I see you in leather, black of course, with RnR guitar and back-up heavy metal band.
What? I was bored....
(no subject)
(no subject)
Oddly enough, I had a sleepless night full of bizarre dreams too. (Which reminds me, I have to get up extra early tomorrow for a conference call in another time zone.) I promise to try to dream you some more episodes of "the Harley Man."
(no subject)