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Monday, August 21, 2006

To sleep, perchance to dream
Big time. My dreams often freak out Greg, who does not have as lively a dream life as myself. For example, two of my favorites dreams include 1) when I dreamed I was Bruce Springsteen's girlfriend, and we were building a house in California. We were in a room together, and there were other people (band-mates? roadies?) in the hall, and he tried to kiss me. I yelled at him! Me! I yelled at The Boss. I said, "Bruce! Shut the door!"
2) That dream is an oldie. More recently, I dreamed I was David Letterman's girlfriend. (I must mention, I am not that big a fan of either Bruce or Dave.) We were sitting on a couch, and talking. (Sounds like his show, doesn't it?)

Anyway, Saturday night, I had two interesting dreams.
1) I dreamed myself, and my friends from work Sarah and Joyce, traveled on a long weekend to Paris. We were in our hotel room talking about where to visit. I wanted the Louvre and the Sorbonne. We went to the Louvre, and we were in the souvenir shop. Of course!
2) I dreamed I was saving the world from terrorist aliens. (Sarah also had a terrorist dream that night; geez, I wonder why.) Greg and I were at a Cubs game at Wrigley field; I knew I had to save the world, so I left the game and walked all the way around the stadium through a big parking lot. As I walked, I knew that the terrorists were also aliens; I knew they had moved the Earth to a different universe, but no one had noticed because it was daytime. (I crack up even as I type those words. Dreams can be so amusing.)
There was a square, cement block, two-story apartment building in front of me. I knew the terrorists were in there, but I wasn't scared, because I knew the end of the story: I knew I would win, and not be hurt or killed. So I walked right up to the terrorists, who were gathered around the door of an apartment; it was a bunch of men and boys. They all drew guns on me; still, I was not scared. There was a little boy there, I don't know who it was; it wasn't any little boy I really know and love, but in my dream it was someone I cared deeply about and I was so relieved to see he was okay. I hugged him and cried; I thought, even terrorists must be moved by this scene.
Then I woke up, and it was Monday, and time to go to work, and I felt as if I would rather face an apartment full of terrorists than get up out of bed and drive to Huntington. But I did.

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