I usually don’t sleep very well, mainly because my joints seem to believe that ‘lights out’ is their cue to set up a round of the popular ‘Who Can Ache the Most?’ gameshow.
Will it be your pelvis because you sat and wrote for most of the day?
Tonight, your neck and shoulders be joining forces with the pelvis?
Perhaps there will be a surprise late entry from the knees because you were out walking?
It could even be that old favourite – the screaming heebie-jeebies of carpal tunnel syndrome…
Or will they just take it in turns every time you turn over…?
Remember contestants, points mean prizes!
I sometimes take a herbal sleeping tablet and a pain killer if they’re really working up to a series finale but mostly a few nights in a row of listening to my sleep hypnosis recording will work wonders and send me off to the land of nod.
My problem is that once I get there I am bored shitless.
Hubby regales me with tales of battling evil aliens and flying above the rooftops. In his dreams he is a vital part of all his favourite TV shows and movies doing all his own stunts and saving the day left, right and centre.
I had a dream the other night that I was doing the shopping in our local supermarket and didn’t have enough money on me to pay for everything.
Wowzer, right?! Scream if you want to go faster.
I have had dreams where people have invited me round their house and we sit and watch TV. Not even good TV.
I’ve dreamt that I am cleaning the house.
Yes, doing the hoovering.
Sometimes I’ll get really rock and roll and go to work. I am at a theatre or school I worked in and I just…well….work. Sort stuff out, have some lunch, put things away, even do photocopying on occasion.
I don’t even get to go places. I never travel in my dreams; never even get in a car let alone fly like a bird. I am always already in the place where the dream takes place, whether it’s a school, someone’s house or the supermarket. I never leave and I never go outside.
All my dreams are indoors.
Just the other night I spent my dream time in a very tiny tree house apologising to my friend for ditching her to hook up with a guy the night before.
I didn’t actually get to do the hooking up bit; didn’t even get to experience it in flashback. I just spent the dream trying to get her to talk to me again and failing to find my school books in among all the branches in the tiny tree house.
Big old whoop!
Maybe that’s why I can’t get to sleep; my brain is trying to avoid being bored shitless in my dreams.
I’m sure if I looked into it these dreams probably say more than I need to know about myself.
I’m going to stick to running errands and dusting the living room rather than find out it all means I’m a mad, psychotic woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
We know that already…