It appears I am imposing myself upon the otherwise dreamless slumbers of my friends lately. A few days ago at a church function a neighborhood friend told me she dreamed that Rob and I adopted. She didn't get to fill in with details; a woman I recognize but don't know butted into our conversation with bitter complaints about the impossibility of adopting when she and her husband already had two children. The original chat sort of fizzled out after that.
But today, one of my best-beloveds on this planet and any-every other emailed me to say:
You were in my dream last night, Geo. You were you, but you were also my French colleague, K. (she is nearly as wonderful as you). I was doing your hair, putting it into a chignon, and then I put a snood on it. You were lovely. At some point in the dream, however, the snood turned into a funny hat, and we cracked up at the way it made your forehead look extraordinarily tall. I didn't want to wake up from that dream.
So, Mr. Billy forwarded me this, and I knew I had the excuse to tell you—you've been in my mind, conscious as well as un-.
I don't count this as a blogger dream, because CB and I go waaaaay back to the time before blogging, before computers, before dinosaurs, before light and dark and calling them good. This dream made me really really happy.
Hmmm. Where will my next stop be in Slumberland? Watch yourselves, folks. If you don't want me haunting your dreamscapes, stay away from late-night pizzas.