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Craaaaaaaaaap
I am becoming afflicted with some kind of ick. It's probably a cold. It's in my throat mostly right now--it's that "feeling" that tells me I'm getting sick. Also I am tired. Also my right sinus is starting to feel congested. Craaaaaaaaaaap. (Imagine that said in the voice of Colonel Tigh.)
Last night I had a terrible dream. It woke me up, and for a little bit I couldn't quite understand that I was out of the dream. So in the dream I was visiting someone--I think it was my grandparents in dream logic, but they were nothing like any of my real life grandparents. They lived out in the middle of nowhere, on a dirt road. I decided to go out for a walk, so I was walking up the road and after awhile I came to this somewhat ramshackle house with a bunch of junk in the yard, as you often see in a rural area. There was a big St. Bernard chained in the yard and he wagged his tail and made a friendly "play bow" and a little "woof" at me, so I started walking up into the yard to say hello to him. The yard had a lot of junk in it, so I had to watch where I was going--I was following like a little path through it, and suddenly I came upon a sight I couldn't process at first. There was a dog skeleton, and it still had a tie-out chain and collar around its neck. All around the skeleton the soil was dark, and there was a ring of loose fur. The size of the skeleton and the fur all told me that the dog had also been a St. Bernard. At about that time, I became aware that there were people in the house and that they were arguing. I could hear a woman's voice occasionally interrupted by a man's voice. She was on a tirade, yelling and swearing, etc. At one point it sounded like the man was coming out onto the front porch, and I suddenly didn't want to be seen (because I was trespassing and they had things to hide in that yard), so I continued deeper into the yard, hooked around the back of the house, and started walking toward the road on the other side of the house. About halfway toward the road, I saw another dog carcass, this one not as fully decomposed as the first one had been (it had some flesh, and I could see flies and maggots). It, too, was a St. Bernard, and still had its collar and tie-out chain around its neck. That did it. I took off running toward the road, and as I got to the road and ran toward my grandparents' house, I could still hear the couple arguing, and I looked back to see that poor surviving St. Bernard watching me with very sad eyes. I told him with my mind that I would help him, that I wouldn't let him die like his two friends had died, tied up and neglected, and he seemed to understand because he sat as if to wait for me to come back.
The dream didn't end there. The rest of it was a frustrated tangle of me trying to convince people that we needed to rescue this St. Bernard. First were my grandparents, who told me that I had to go through the proper channels, and gave me the phone book so that I could look up "animal control officer" in the yellow pages, but I couldn't find an entry anywhere. Then I talked to a police officer, who wouldn't listen and just told me to calm down, that I probably hadn't seen what I thought I'd seen ("it was probably just a dead raccoon or possum or something"). Finally, I was somehow in a little town, and talked to some people in a pub who directed me toward a drawer in a table and a weird glass display case, both of which were filled with little pieces of paper torn out of notebooks, each of which had a name and phone number and a bit of information identifying what that person did for a living. When I woke up, I was frantically trying to organize the slips of paper and find one that said "animal control officer" on it, and at the same time I was trying to convince the people around me that they had to help me rescue this dog. Most of them either didn't believe me, or they thought it was a lost cause, or they thought it was that couple's business (and none of mine) what they did with their dogs.
I woke from this at like 4am, feeling crappy, both physically (as described above) and emotionally, with a residual sense of impotent urgency and a frustrated desire to fulfill my telepathic promise that I would go back and help that dog. I managed to get back to sleep, woke up again at about 7:30, then lazed in bed for another 30-45 minutes or so, in and out of sleep. I'm awake now but I feel very tired, as if I could sleep for another 12 hours.
I can't remember the last time I had a cold.
Last night I had a terrible dream. It woke me up, and for a little bit I couldn't quite understand that I was out of the dream. So in the dream I was visiting someone--I think it was my grandparents in dream logic, but they were nothing like any of my real life grandparents. They lived out in the middle of nowhere, on a dirt road. I decided to go out for a walk, so I was walking up the road and after awhile I came to this somewhat ramshackle house with a bunch of junk in the yard, as you often see in a rural area. There was a big St. Bernard chained in the yard and he wagged his tail and made a friendly "play bow" and a little "woof" at me, so I started walking up into the yard to say hello to him. The yard had a lot of junk in it, so I had to watch where I was going--I was following like a little path through it, and suddenly I came upon a sight I couldn't process at first. There was a dog skeleton, and it still had a tie-out chain and collar around its neck. All around the skeleton the soil was dark, and there was a ring of loose fur. The size of the skeleton and the fur all told me that the dog had also been a St. Bernard. At about that time, I became aware that there were people in the house and that they were arguing. I could hear a woman's voice occasionally interrupted by a man's voice. She was on a tirade, yelling and swearing, etc. At one point it sounded like the man was coming out onto the front porch, and I suddenly didn't want to be seen (because I was trespassing and they had things to hide in that yard), so I continued deeper into the yard, hooked around the back of the house, and started walking toward the road on the other side of the house. About halfway toward the road, I saw another dog carcass, this one not as fully decomposed as the first one had been (it had some flesh, and I could see flies and maggots). It, too, was a St. Bernard, and still had its collar and tie-out chain around its neck. That did it. I took off running toward the road, and as I got to the road and ran toward my grandparents' house, I could still hear the couple arguing, and I looked back to see that poor surviving St. Bernard watching me with very sad eyes. I told him with my mind that I would help him, that I wouldn't let him die like his two friends had died, tied up and neglected, and he seemed to understand because he sat as if to wait for me to come back.
The dream didn't end there. The rest of it was a frustrated tangle of me trying to convince people that we needed to rescue this St. Bernard. First were my grandparents, who told me that I had to go through the proper channels, and gave me the phone book so that I could look up "animal control officer" in the yellow pages, but I couldn't find an entry anywhere. Then I talked to a police officer, who wouldn't listen and just told me to calm down, that I probably hadn't seen what I thought I'd seen ("it was probably just a dead raccoon or possum or something"). Finally, I was somehow in a little town, and talked to some people in a pub who directed me toward a drawer in a table and a weird glass display case, both of which were filled with little pieces of paper torn out of notebooks, each of which had a name and phone number and a bit of information identifying what that person did for a living. When I woke up, I was frantically trying to organize the slips of paper and find one that said "animal control officer" on it, and at the same time I was trying to convince the people around me that they had to help me rescue this dog. Most of them either didn't believe me, or they thought it was a lost cause, or they thought it was that couple's business (and none of mine) what they did with their dogs.
I woke from this at like 4am, feeling crappy, both physically (as described above) and emotionally, with a residual sense of impotent urgency and a frustrated desire to fulfill my telepathic promise that I would go back and help that dog. I managed to get back to sleep, woke up again at about 7:30, then lazed in bed for another 30-45 minutes or so, in and out of sleep. I'm awake now but I feel very tired, as if I could sleep for another 12 hours.
I can't remember the last time I had a cold.
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(Anonymous) 2008-11-19 09:21 pm (UTC)(link)Sarah
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I'm covering all the bases: we'll have you believing that I'm taking them, plus I am actually taking them (which, conveniently, contributes to your belief that I am taking them). Hopefully this will keep me from getting any sicker.
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I know people who have had dreams where a favorite dog or pet was in peril and usually they have needed to -ok, please pardon me for using huggy feely new age language here- nurture their inner child in some way. they usually have adult pressure mounting up around them and they're taking on a bit more than they can handle. now, in this case, you're not seeing a favorite childhood pet (unless I'm wrong); you're seeing an animal who should be able to take care of itself, but is trapped.
I think some serious self-care is in order, though. Wish I could help.
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What I didn't say in my entry is that I almost never remember my dreams, so when I do remember one, I assume that it must mean something. I just don't often get around to digging into them more deeply.
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