Megan Rock

Last night, blearily half-awake in some unidentifiable hour of the morning, I somehow got this image in my mind of a tiny, subterranean population - like the Fraggles - who have somehow rigged up a tiny, subterranean movie screen that projects dreams from the minds of the people above - they have several different minds in circulation.

And I imagined that each time the tiny, subterranean guy running the show announced to them all that they would be watching my dreams that night, they would all throw up their arms and give out squeaky little cries of excitement, because my mind gives the best shows!

Seriously, I have some wild dreams - they frolic and romp through all the best of dream territory in a wonderfully irrational performance of wish fulfilment, superpowers, forbidden love, time travel, narrow escapes, immortality, fear, satisfaction... there is no rhyme or reason, only action.

Sometimes I have semi-lucid moments in my dreams where I realize that I can take advantage of what's happening, and other times I have embarrassing or incriminating dreams about people who I then have to face the next day, feeling at once shy and triumphant that they made a cameo in my unconscious and will never be the wiser. I have bad dreams and good, dreams I remember for ages (there was one I had over and over when I was a kid that I still remember so clearly, especially when I wind up my little tugboat music box and listen to it), and other dreams that I remember less and less the more I try to concentrate on them.

And I always, always, no matter what I try to do to alter it, wake up around 3 or 4am to go to the bathroom - but it isn't a simple, clean wake-up and go-back-to-sleep event... having to pee is always a big event in my dreams, sometimes it reaches emergency levels until I gradually wake up and enough lights flicker on in my brain to tell me in which direction I need to stumble.

EXAMPLE last night I had a dream that, out of desperation, I got a job as a cashier at the Provigo grocery store near my apartment in Montreal. I was being trained by someone about my age, and she was getting increasingly frustrated with me because I couldn't remember any of the French names for the produce (probably related to my ongoing anxiety on behalf of cashiers everywhere - how do they remember all those codes?), and my line-up was getting so long that it snaked up and down every single aisle in the store, and people were shouting French curses at me ("sacre poutin!"), and I was also getting more and more worried because I really had to pee but could not foresee an easy exit from the situation... then, slowly, right on cue, gradual wake-up until whoa! I'm in my bed! Have to pee!

Thus concludes my rant on dreaming.

Tonight is New Years' Eve! Well, I guess all day has been New Years' Eve, but tonight it really gets saluted with all the partying that happens. I am stomach-tingling excited!

(ps - had a great party for Mom last night ... it was a smashing hit of the highest quality, and everything tasted delicious, and everyone was merry! I don't know how any of that could have triggered my Provigo dream, but... who knows what wee nightmares my unconscious cooks up through the day to spoon into my too-willing brain at night).