The Can’t-Wake-Up Dream

I’d been working. In the military, it seemed like from clues, but it was never clearly presented. Staying in some manner of mixed work, play, sleep compound. Very modern. Enormously wide hallways. Well lit.

I’d been going to and fro, doing work and receiving instructions, sometimes passing guidance along, when suddenly, I was asleep. Yep, asleep in my dream. And I couldn’t wake up. And I knew this. I new that I wanted and needed to wake up. But my head was heavy with exhaustion and my eyes felt glued shut.

Someone came by and spoke with me. Don’t know what they said. I replied, “I need to wake up but I can’t. I must get up.”

Somehow, I did manage to get up. “Water,” I told myself. “Drink some water. That will help.”

Feeling my way about, I came to a sink and turned on the water. Using my hand to catch water, I guzzled a bit.

It wasn’t working. “Put water on your face,” I told myself. “Splash your eyes.”

Right; yes. That worked enough that at last I could open my eyes. “Food and coffee will help,” I said to myself. “Go find some.”

Dream end. Early sunlight was petering in around the closed blinds. The dream felt so real that I went into the kitchen and drank a glass of water and then went to a mirror to see if my eyes were open. Very strange.

October 10, 2024 0

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: Coffeebunctious

Good morning, good day, good afternoon, and good evening. Today is Tuesday, July 16, 2024. It’s now 81 F in Ashland, cloudy, a bit humid, stiff and dull with heat. Our high will be 99 F. Clouds like pleasure craft in the sea have come to the harbor of our sky.

We were coming back from running errands yesterday when the sky darkened. A large, swollen cloud mass blocked the sun, bringing up a wind. Rain veils hovered over the southern mountains’ trees. Could we get rain? my wife and I wondered.

Back home, we questioned Alexa. She assured us that rain wasn’t happening.

Then thunder steamrolled our street. Huh. A few minutes later came a lightning streak. More thunder. The power flickered and danced. Then soft rain pelted the hot ground, summoning petrichor from its depths. The temperature flew from the mid 90s to 86 F. Doors and windows were opened as the thin, light rain drizzled over us like light frosting and left. Thunder continued for another thirty minutes but that was the only band member there as lightning and precipitation hustled on. The temperature recovered to hit 90 but the evening cooled fast. The night was pleasantly chill, and a deep slumber was enjoyed.

One of the things that come with lightning in the west is worry about it striking the ground and igniting fires. Yes, that happened, quite a bit. Many were immediately found and outed. A few are still out there, watched and prioritized to be addressed by the proper government agencies.

The Neurons are feeding One Republic with “Counting Stars” from 2013 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark steamed). It was the line, “Lately, I’ve been, I’ve been losing sleep, dreaming about the things we could be,” which hooked The Neurons. I don’t blame them; I like the line as well. Then I sort of hooked onto later line myself: “Everything that kills me makes me feel alive.” As a person living with hypertension and medicating for it and dealing with edema, I make strenuous efforts to avoid sodium. My bod and sodium don’t get along and the less little bit each day triggers swelling and exasperation. Ah, life gives us each a unique burden to carry, unless you’re some kind of strangely fortunate one like TFG. It’s a uplifting song for me, nice beat, with some stirring lyrics aptly delivered.

Be strong, remain positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee and I have been sharing a pleasant morning. Hope you’ve been doing the same. Here’s the music video. Off we go. Cheers

July 16, 2024 0

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: soggy

“Raindrops on Roses”.

The calendar keeps clicking around on its infinite rounds. Today is Sunday, March 24, 2024. Easter is next Sunday. Then April commences.

“Only Happy When It Rains”. “Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head”. “No Rain”.

I awoke zero dark thirtyish to rain drumming. With a chuckle, my nasty Neurons started feeding rain-themed songs into the morning mental music stream (Trademark impending).

“I Can’t Stand the Rain.” “Singing in the Rain”.

I cursed the Neurons and then explained that it was hours before I was getting up. I requested of them, shut down the music so I can sleep.

“Rainy Day Women”. “Fire and Rain”. “Box of Rain”. “Rain on the Scarecrow”.

The Neurons laughed. Sleep in. Just enjoy the music for now.

“Kentucky Rain”. “Rain Fall Down”.

I mean, there was Garbage and Blind Melon. John Mellencamp. Gordon Lightfoot. Neil Sedaka. Buddy Holly. Elvis. BJ Thomas. Guns ‘N Roses. Julie Andrews. Clapton. The Pogues. The Beatles. Madonna. Tom Petty. ELO. The Grateful Dead. Tina Turner. That’s just a few of them. Do you realize how many songs about rain are out there? Geez.

I finally fell back to sleep after the Cowsills began “The Rain, The Park & Other Things (I Love The Flower Girl)” from 1967. It’s a mellow pop song and I think the rain was fading at that point. Tucker, my black and white floof, had crawled into bed beside my head and was purring like a BMW V12, a soothing sound.

In between the rain songs, my mind busied itself with sifting through dream remnants. Then I began writing fiction in my head. Bottom line, it wasn’t a restful night. A nap is planned for later.

Sunshine has broken through but fog and clouds dominate the skyscape. 40 F now, 51 F is supposed to be reached before the day shuts down. I went out a few minutes ago with coffee. Stood on the porch, looking, listening. It smells and feels like spring. Air seems warmer than forty. Then, because I was barefoot, in shorts and a tee, I scurried back inside.

Stay positive, be strong, and vote. I’ll do the same, if possible, when possible. Well, it’s a daily goal. Sometimes I reach it but I keep trying. More coffee, stat. Here we go. Enjoy the music. Cheers

March 24, 2024 0

The Writing Moment

It’s hard to stop writing when it’s blistering along but the allocated time has skidded to an end. Difficult to push the pause button while editing and revising the other project when the timing bell rings to announce, move on to the next matter.

Doesn’t help that the muses are especially active, like they’ve been gorging on chocolate cake and chugging coffee. They just don’t want to stop and it pains me to tell them that I am.

I need a longer day or the means to carve time out of everything else going on. How much sleep is really needed anyway?

February 12, 2024 0

Sunday’s Wandering Thought

I awoke feeling tired and realized I’d gotten about six hours of sleep. Wasn’t real concerned as that’s been my norm for years. But I usually don’t feel tired, and I wondered if it had to do with aging, as I’m now sniffing on the border of being 68. So I thought, yes, this is probably the case.

When I went into the office, cranked up the ‘puter and turned to the NYTimes this morning after breakfast, the first story spotted was, “Why Does Sleep Become More Elusive As We Age” in Salon. I don’t think sleep is my issue per se, but rest. Still, it made me feel like they were spying on my private thoughts.

I wouldn’t be surprised if another story emerges soon, “Why Do We Get More Paranoid About Being Spied On When We Age” soon.

December 3, 2023 5

July 3, 2023 1

Floof Sleep

When he settles for a nap

The floof comes along

Sniffing to confirm his identity

Verifying he’s still alive.

The floof settles in

And then settles again

And again

Draping a paw over his chest

Pushing a furry head against his cheek

Taking too much room

Rendering him captured and immobile

As he relaxes and sleeps.

Awakening stiff but refreshed

He reminds himself again

Sleeping with a floof is the best.

June 24, 2023 3

May 27, 2023 0

A Dream About Previous Work

It was such a long, uninterrupted dream. It involved Michele, an ex-coworker, and the BlackICE computer security product we sold and supported.

I came across Michele. She and I had worked together for ten years. She told me that BlackICE was working again. I was surprised; did it ever stop working? Not that I knew. She told me that it had ceased and then disappeared from the market. Then, suddenly, it was back. She, along with others, were trying to learn who brought it back.

I offered to help, which was gratefully accepted. She led me down a narrow path through a short field past a few trees. Going through a gray metal door, we entered a two-story place. A minimalist place, constructed from cinder blocks, it had two dirty windows. Old wooden workbenches with old, old, large computer pieces lined the walls. Up narrow metal stairs which shook when we walked up them, was a loft with an old gray desk, monitor and computer on it. Two people, men who I knew were engineers, were working, one downstairs, one up. Both greeted me.

“There it is,” one man said. “It’s live again.”

Michele had explained to me that they hoped that it would go live, allowing them to trace it. That’s what they started doing. She told me a more senior engineer was due and asked me to go outside and wait for him so I could bring him in. As I went to leave, he entered, slender with a gray beard and hair, wearing a tan trench coat, carrying a brown attaché. Someone said, “That’s Alexc,” to which I replied, “I know.” Seeing me, Alexsaid, “Oh, you.”

It sounded a little derogatory. I replied, “You know me, Alex. We’ve met before.”

He nodded, I guess acknowledging that.

Alex went to a computer, studied it, and then directed some activity. We were to continue monitoring the systems for further activity. Michele was told to go upstairs. She did. Though I wasn’t officially involved, I went up after her. There was another room up there which I hadn’t noticed before. Very dark, it lacked furniture but was loaded with stacked servers, keyboards and monitors, and was very cold. She settled on the floor in near darkness and used her jacket as a blanket. I told her, “I’ll stay up here with you if you want.”

She answered, “I appreciate that.”

I sat on the floor beside her, our backs against the wall. Alex came up to check on her. He said, “It’s going to take a very long time. We’re setting up another place. When it’s ready, I’ll send for you.” He then thanked me for helping and departed.

Michele and I began falling asleep. We decided to nudge each other to stay awake. One of the monitors leaped into life. Numbers and graphs danced across it. Jumping up, I said, “Michele, look.” Her eyes were closed and she was snoring. I shook her awake. Another engineer came up and said, “We’re set up at the new place. Come on.”

We arrived at the new place after a short walk through the night. This new facility was low and modern, cement, with blacked out glass windows. The three of us entered. Long consoles loaded with gear were manned. People greeted us. Michele was shown to her workstation. Alex asked me if I wanted to stay and be a part of it. This is where the dream ended.