PMMJ (cheetahmaster) wrote,

As noted previously, one of the functions of my bad memory (or insomnia, or some combination of the two) is that I very rarely remember my dreams. Maybe one a month or so. I presume I am dreaming the rest of the time, and just forgetting it. And sometimes, it's just a quick image or something odd like that, and nothing else. But every now and then one sticks.

Like this nightmare I had earlier this week.

What with the not dreaming much if at all is that I rarely have or remember nightmares. But I've had a couple in the past year or so, and it seems they all feature Z. now, which is not cool.

Last weekend, I had a real doozy. Short, but uncool. Z. wakes me up, as she does some times, and she is being terribly cute, so I pick her up and carry her towards the kitchen. She is telling me something as I hold her, but as I pass the front door, something is really really wrong. The door is open just over halfway, and the wall across the hallway is wrong. It's the same color, but it's bricks, and not smooth. And then I realize as I walk slowly towards it that the door is hinged on the wrong side as well, so it's also opened the wrong way.

I turn my head to the right, look down the kitchen, and there's two people I don't know sitting at my dining room table, talking. I can't make out what they're talking about. They're maybe ten years older than me, they don't seem to see me or Z., and for some reason I am filled with dread immediately.

And then M. woke me up because I was freaking out.

Of course I had to get up and check the house, make sure everything is locked up, and then I went in to check on Z., who was sleeping peacefully. All tangled up in her covers as usual, but fine otherwise.

Eee, I get goosebumps just writing about it now, and I still can't quite figure out why.

Tags: dreams, not news

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