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Errantry: Novak's Journal
...Words to cast/My feelings into sculpted thoughts/To make some wisdom last
Personal: Odd Dream 
21st-Apr-2012 03:24 am
Everwood: Andy and Harold
One of the happier things about my psychology, I gather, from talking with other people, is that I don't really have nightmares. I know some people really are plagued by these, which sounds more unpleasant for restful sleep than is having a pea-sized bladder or somesuch.

I fell asleep early, around 10pm, and fell right into what was for me a very strange dream: of being in the same room, at the same time. In my dream, instead of having fallen into my bed, I went over and checked my computer, probably my email, and noticed through the window (which looks out on my front porch) that Chris was on the porch, stopping by, which has happened before. It didn't strike me as odd, though, that Chris would be there at 10pm, as he works Friday nights as a line chef at Dickie Brennan's Bourbon House, which keeps him busy until closer to 1am. But in my dream, Chris seemed to put an envelope into the mailbox of the apartment above me and not come over to my door, which I thought was strange. I walked out of my front bedroom, around over toward the front door, but now the light on the porch was out and not coming through the window above my door. Weirder. I walked back into my room instead, where I could again see lights and such but no Chris. After a few moments, I guess, I went back around toward the front door. Again, now, there were no lights on, which seemed wrong. I unlocked the deadbolt and started to open the door, which suddenly began to be forced open by someone on the other side of it. I shoved back, but was losing the fight to close the door, which started shoving further open: I yelled in panic and opened my eyes – and could see from my clock radio that 25 minutes had passed since I lay down.

So that was, for me, as notable and journal-worthy a nightmare as anything I've had since the Picasso-ish wooden giraffe bench-thing in my room consistently freaked me out as a three year-old when the lights were turned out. Maybe just a reflection of a latent concern about New Orleans crime? Whatever. But, as I said, I'm lucky enough in my dreams (which are often quite entertaining in an action/adventure movie kind of way – I had a vast one the other night in a long bit of mostly uninterrupted sleep: not magical, per se, but a kind of "Harry Potter" mood/mystery/adventure setting. Wish I could remember the details, but I know that I was having an awful lot of fun! Anyway, I just woke up thinking that this night had been odd enough (and still more-or-less clear in memory) as to be worth jotting down for its unrepresentative strangeness.
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