Where did I put that?

I had another odd dream last night. This seems to be my motif lately. I have a weird dream. I post it here. We all share a good laugh.

I knew it was a good one, so I wrote it down as soon as I woke up. I didn’t want to forget any important details. It’s the least I could do. My problem is that I can’t find the paper upon which I wrote every detail of said dream.

I wrote it down as soon as I awoke. But, you see, I wasn’t actually awake. I was dreaming about sleeping apparently. And in my dream slumber, I was having a lucid dream. The details of this dream are the ones I had hoped to share. Another motif. A dream meme, if you will.

I know there was a bar. The kind where you drink. Not like a pole. Or a bunch of lawyers. And lots of people. We were doing something. Probably having some drinks. And then something happened. Most likely followed by something else. Then I woke up and wrote it all down and put it on my nightstand. And then woke up for real.

So here we are at an impasse. A dead end. I am at a loss of my dream…within a dream. (Mawwiage…) I really don’t know what to say. I have no excuse for myself.

What say we all pretend I gave you the details and we all share a good laugh. Deal? Cool.

Hahahaha! I know, right?

Lent snacking

In case you didn’t know, I like my snacks. It’s a daily routine. Every night around 10:00, I head to the kitchen in search of something sweet. This is where living in a cupcake shop has its advantages. There is rarely a shortage of delicious desserts waiting to meet their destiny. Couple that with an ice-cold Pepsi, and I’m set. (Then I nap. Then return to snacking and watching whatever is waiting, or currently playing on the DVR. This last part of my nightly ritual is a source of amusement for PeachJello.)

The other day, PeachJello and I were discussing snacking during lent. She said it wasn’t allowed. No eating between meals or some such nonsense. It was decreed from the man in the white hat, himself. I may or may not have said what I thought of the papal position on post meal provisions. And I may or may not need to go to confession for what I may or may not have said.

Ironically enough, I have now gone two nights in a row now without a 10:00 snack. Not a cupcake. Not a fudge round. Nothing. I feel so empty. This is part of who I am. It is what defines me. And now it is no more. One can only hope that it passes as soon as Lent is over.

I don’t know if it’s just that I’ve been busy. Or tired (stupid time change). Or if it’s some perverse pervasive power of papal persuasion. Someone planted the thought that I shouldn’t snack during Lent so deeply in my subconscious that it has become my reality. I’ve been snack Inceptioned! (And why can I not escape this motif? It’s as if someone inceptioned the movie Inception into my brain.)

Curse you, Leo! I want my snacks!

I dont know what that means

Punkers decided to wake up at an ungodly hour.  To keep from having to clean up an all too familiar mess, I took her downstairs and attempted to get her to go back to sleep.

My efforts were in vain.  She dozed off a bit, but never achieved the deep sleep I hoped for, leaving me tossing and turning in the recliner with her tossing and turning in my lap.  Each time I thought she was asleep, I would try to carry her upstairs to return her to her bed.  Each time, I was greeted with a sleepy entreaty.  “Daddy!”  How could I resist?

So I stayed with her.  All morning.  I moved her to the couch and tried to get comfortable in the arm-chair.  Not an easy feat.  I faded in and out of a pseudo sleep.

As I was lying in the chair, I had a dream of me standing at the top of the steps.  I remember saying to someone, “And tomorrow I’ll hold your ostrich. I don’t know what that means.”  I’m not sure to whom I was speaking.  And I, indeed, did not know what that meant.  The next thing I knew, two people led an actual ostrich out the front door.  I don’t know who the two strangers were.  Or why they had an ostrich in my house.  Or who was going to clean up after this same flightless bird.

Then things got all Inception on me.  As they led the ostrich out the front door, I saw my dream self picturing himself (myself?) riding the ostrich.  I was holding a lance as we rode around the yard. Like real life Joust. You know, the old Atari game.  It was quite a sight.  And it made me nostalgic for my childhood.  I used to imagine that very scene.  Riding the ostrich with a lance.  Not the two strangers escorting said ostrich out of my house.

Then my dream self stopped picturing the odd situation in the front yard.  And then I woke from my not-quite-slumber.  All very peculiar.

I now have to watch Inception.  I’m hoping this scene made it to the movie.  If not, I’ll wait for the directors cut.

And I still don’t know what that all meant.