I’m pretty sure I’m at the nth degree in singular frustration.
Actually probably the lth degree, we may not yet have got to nth. I’ll keep you posted…
To Preface: I’m not usually prone to remembering my dreaming. I say it that way because every time I say I don’t have dreams I get shouted down – (as in “YES YOU DO, YOU JUST DON’T REMEMBER THEM” or words to that effect.).
So, to re cap. I don’t usually remember my dreams. At least, I didn’t until the cat came along.
Now, how is it possible that this animal could cause such a dramatic change, I hear you ask?
Because, what I meant to say earlier is that I don’t generally remember my dreams unless I have had my sleep interrupted. And now that the cat wakes up for food at 6am or so I am also awoken. As it’s a toss up between getting up at 6am, feeding the cat, shutting the bedroom door and going back to sleep… or ignoring the cat and having him meow (he’s an oriental remember… he has a whine and a half on him) and having him get progressively more restless and irritated I generally get up, feed him, skip to the loo and then go back to bed (ok, not skipping so much, but you get the idea).
And I go back to sleep and so, as it happens, to dream.
Which is where we get back to the frustration part. This morning’s dreams were kissing dreams. Kissing which I haven’t been doing, nor am I likely to be doing any time soon.
It would be ever so much less frustrating to have kissing dreams about someone like George Clooney, or Charlie Sheen (I know, still can’t get past that teenage bad boy obsession) simply because they are so far ‘out there’ that the kissing dreams are harmless nonsense. However, my frustration is elevated because instead, I’m having kissing dreams about someone who’s actually within my acquaintance.
Now, please don’t go giving me advice about throwing myself at him and kissing him anyway. I’ve heard that some guys actually thrive on that. But having a terminal case of ‘rejection-shyness’ (with good reason) has meant I’m not likely to behave in such a way as to fulfill that particular man fantasy. (Not without knowing first that it would be welcome, which defeats the whole purpose, I think).
So, I’m stuck, with my subconscious telling me what I already know and in all honesty I wish it would just blinkin’ well shut the heck up.
Or better still, that the cat would sleep through till 7am so that at least I wouldn’t remember.