I had a terribly restless night last night.  As anyone who knows me can attest, if I don’t sleep well, I can be most unpleasant in the waking hours.  Hide your children.  And mine for that matter.

First it was Sophia who woke me.  3am.  An hour I haven’t been familiar with since the infamous all-night keg parties study sessions in college.  She apparently had a nightmare and needed comforting.  Ok, no biggie, I’ll just slide in next to you for little bit and snuggle your fears away.  Usually when I do this (which thankfully is on very rare occasions–my kids are great sleepers, mercifully)  I end up falling asleep in bed with her and wake up later to sneak back into my own bed.  This did not happen last night.  It was hot, the bed was small, the kid was fidgety, and I had some anxiety creeping into my nerves from an unknown source.  So when I was sure Sophia was safely back in the land of pleasant dreams, I tiptoed back to my room for more restlessness.

Back in my own bed, sleep continued to elude me.  Instead, I was serenaded by my two favorite furry beasts-my husband and our huge dog, Sam.  Snoring in stereo.  Joy.  Sam can peel the paint off the walls he snores so loud.  It’s quite disturbing actually in that it sounds like what you’d only hear in cartoons and greatly exaggerated movie scenes.  Now add the backup bass tones of my husband’s septum, and you’ve got yourself a non-chemical dose of No-Doze.  I tried flicking him in the head to gently nudge my husand in an effort to get him change positions without waking him.  However, the man does not sleep so much as he slips into a coma for 7 hours.  As for Sam, after a couple of well-aimed periodicals and the aptly-named toss pillow, he rolled over and gave me a few minutes of silence within which to try to fall back to sleep.

Yeah, right.

Sometime after mentally calculating my Christmas budget, balancing my checkbook, and worrying about when and where to take the dogs to the vet, I must’ve drifted off to sleep…because at 5 am I startled myself upright after having a terrible nightmare!  You know those dreams that feel so real that when you wake up you’re sweating and shaking and it takes several minutes to realize you are safe in bed?  I rarely have those, but apparently there’s something in the air, or Sophia’s mental state was contagious.

It was awful.  Recalling it still makes my chest hurt!  I used to love analyzing my dreams–I even took a class in college called “Freud and Dreams”.  I haven’t tried it lately, but I would love to hear what people thought this dream was all about:

We lived in a beautiful house in California, overlooking a canyon.  (that right there tells me it was indeed a DREAM)  Matt and I had stepped out on our front porch and Matt had Sam on his leash to go for a walk.  For some reason, Matt let go of the leash and we watched as Sam sniffed around the front of the house, just beyond our reach.  All of a sudden, we spotted a mountain lion across the street, prowling about the canyon’s ridge.  (I could feel the fear, even in my sleep-state).  Matt called to Sam and I panicked, calling to him as well, but as is typical in my dreams, no sound came out of my mouth.  Instead of coming back to us though, Sam saw the mountain lion and started barking at it.  Suddenly, before we could stop him, Sam took off toward the mountain lion and chased it into the canyon.  Matt and I stood there helpless and motionless as we watched our dog fight the mountain lion, and then watched in horror as the lion grabbed Sam in his jaws and pull him into the canyon and out of sight.  Holy crap.  Then, as dreams are apt to do, we fast forward hours? days?  I don’t know.  All I know is that miraculously, Sam made it out of the canyon alive, but certainly not well.  He had lost an eye, most of his tail and apparantly sustained nerve damage that left him paralyzed on his whole right side. 

I cried, and continued to cry when I woke up from this awful dream!

I may try to analyze it later, when I’m not so damn tired.  In teaching us about dream interpretation, my old college professor told us to recall our “day’s residue”–think of things that occurred that day that might have found a way to creep into your unconcious.  All I can come up with is 1) anxiety over where I am going to be living–we need to move soon, but don’t have the means to do so  2) I’ve been reading Twilight, so perhaps all that sharp-tooth fang imagery manifested itself as a mountain lion  and 3)  my dog was the last thing I was thinking about before I finally passed out.

And thus concludes my overly long post, that I bet could be used ironically, as a sleep-aid.

Today is a lovely, sunny day at least.  That helps me keep my eyes open.  That and coffee.  As for Sam, I can’t hold anything against the sweet boy, after a dream like that.  I do wish he could stop snoring though.

He's certainly not sleep-deprived.  Or deprived period.  Get off my bed mutt!

He is obviously not deprived, sleep or otherwise. Get off my bed Mutt!

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