To sleep, perchance to dream… and dream… and dream…
Remember when the ACN — my Adorably Cute Niece for you first-timers — was here and Cassie was being bad? So, the ACN made Cassie sleep in my room.
Well, when the squirt went home, she told me that Cassie had to stay in my room. So, Cassie has been sleeping on a chair in my bedroom. Two nights ago, on the phone, the ACN decided that wasn’t good enough. Cassie had to sleep in my bed.
So, because I promised, I put Cassie on the foot of my bed before going to sleep.
And I slept crappily!
I originally thought it was all because of her proclivity for bum-pinching. Because, let’s face it, it is not easy to sleep through bum pinchings. It’s just not.
But, now I have a slightly different theory…
Cassie has the power to control dreams.
That night I had sooo many crazily vivid dreams.
I had one that I’m calling “CSI: Wal-Mart.” In it I was pursuing a serial killer through a… well, a Wal-Mart store. Even though it was super vivid at the time, I don’t remember a lot of details. I do recall running by a girl I dated when I was 16 as she tried to get me to stop. And I remember that there were cool t-shirts on sale. I woke up all amped up and ready to kick some serial killer ass.
Moments later I was back asleep and dreaming about a nuclear bomb being assembled by bad guys in my basement. It would have been more harrowing, if it hadn’t been partially constructed of legos.
The rest of the night included a number of other equally as strange dreams.
And since I don’t recall eating any Guatemalan insanity peppers before bed, I am blaming Cassie.
To see if it was a one shot deal, I slept with Cassie on the foot of my bed again last night. The results…
A bunch of dreams again.
Not quite as wacky, but still oddly vivid.
The one I had before I woke up this morning involved me walking by a truck and rubbing my finger through the dust on the hood.
Let’s just say that, when awake, dust-noticing is not exactly a strong suit with me.
So, yeah, Cassie controls dreams.
Take that, Tickle-me Elmo!
I don’t think that my theory is SO crazy.
Native Americans believed that dreams were messages sent by sacred spirits.
And then there was that Freddy Krueger dude.
– I read a quote from Ann Coulter where she mentioned being emboldened by her looks to say things that other people wouldn’t dare. Who in the world told her that she was attractive? Blonde hair does not necessary make one good-looking. She looks like a closet-drunk soccer mom whose husband is going to leave her soon for his secretary. Seriously. Chick looks like she has some hard miles on her.
– The closet-drunk theory would also explain her idiotic comments.
– I am blog-blocked again.
– Yesterday was the first time I read about Kareem Amer. It’s probably a good thing that I don’t live in Egypt, because I strongly feel that my country is being led by a complete fucking idiot.
– Why is that Natasha Bedingfield “Unwritten” song stuck in my head?