Come to Bed With Me
Today I am reflecting on sleep and dreams and bedtime prayers. Sleep has become increasingly important to me as I prepare for opening night tomorrow. It has not become important enough to prevent me from staying up late listening to country music and sipping whiskey after rehearsal. However, I have managed to sleep in every morning this week. Today I got to work three hours late.
Sunday morning I woke up with a bottle of water next to me. I found this quite odd, because I normally keep a bottle of water on the nightstand by my bed. Or your bed, if that's where I find myself crashing for the night. Then I remembered why I was sleeping with a bottle of water. The night before, after a long night of partying, I decided I would prevent a hangover by sipping water throughout the night. So I put my little head on my pillow and sucked water from the bottle as I fell asleep. Yes, like an infant.
I must have supposed, in my drunken stupor, that I could actually manage to get water to trickle into my mouth as I slept. Or maybe I thought I would have dreams that would cause me to suck throughout the night, but oral sex dreams were elusive that night. When I awoke I found a full bottle of water next to me. And I had a hangover.
Sleep is weird to me. The whole idea of checking out for hours at a time doesn't sit well with me. I hate to miss anything. I love to climb into bed and feel my muscles relax, but I wish it only took five or ten minutes to refresh. Hours and hours of missed living just irritates me.
I used to worry that if I went to sleep I might never wake up. My bedtime prayers that Jesus would take my soul if I should die before I wake may have contributed to that fear. "Dear, God, just in case I croak in my sleep, I hope you will take away my soul. Amen." Sweet dreams.
Terrible things can happen to you when you sleep. Red Bull had a dream the other night that a large spider jumped at him. This caused him to fall out of bed and land on a pile of CDs. I recommended he install a rail on the side of his bed. Or he could invite me over to sleep in between me and his boyfriend just to be safe.
My friends at work were trying to explain lucid dreaming to me today. Blue Eyes, aka, "the hottest boy I have ever worked with ever in my whole life", says it is possible to control my dreams. I was telling him that I wish I could make myself have dreams about him. He says its possible, but it's not easy. So it seems lucid dreaming will not be possible for me, since I am the patron saint of the path of least resistance.
If I actually could control my dreams, I would have more dreams about flying. I love when I can fly in my dreams. My coworker, Ms. Karma, says that she flies in her dreams using bicycling techniques. She pumps her legs and holds imaginary handlebars and takes off into the sky.
When I fly, I employ a swimming motion. I stroke through the air using my arms and legs and manage to get decent height sometimes. But I often bump into buildings and walls. This seems entirely unfair. In a dream I should be free to be graceful. Clumsiness shouldn't be a part of dreams.
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