The Island of F*cked Up Dreams


I’d rather be here.

Copyright by proxy, The Tara Chronicles, 2018

Now that Todd is home from an enviable 4-day business trip to Nashville in an amazing hotel, I am sleeping like a log again. It was the longest we’ve been apart in over seven years. Technically we didn’t lay eyes on each other for two days, but had three nights in an empty bed. I don’t sleep when he’s not home. And when he is home, I fall asleep like lightning. I tell him that it’s a compliment because it means I’m totally relaxed and at peace when he’s home.

Sleeping like a log is just a state of the body, for the mind conjures up some real whoppers. Since I hardly slept while he was away, I fell into a deep sleep Saturday night and into a rabbit hole of drama and intrigue that took me through locations and conditions I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

In our house, which looked nothing like our house, there was a kitten that looked identical to Oliver and Veruca was pleading with me to keep it. There was also a baby raccoon in our living room, which I found adorable and had more interest in keeping than the kitten, though I thought I should ask Andy if he wanted it first. (Andy and raccoons: true, long story.)

Anyway, the kitten wasn’t housetrained and it started pooping on the carpet. Veruca ran over to it, saying it was okay, she’d take care of it, and I watched in horror as she pinched off the poop as it was coming out and picked up the kitten. (Which is crazy, right? V is a germaphobe who washes her hands and arms to sandpaper like a surgeon, and worries about a speck of poop on Oliver that doesn’t exist.)

On another note, I keep having these recurring dreams of living in a house that is infested with stray cats. They’re confined to one room that no one lives in and they get in there through a cubby hole that connects to a long tunnel leading out of the house. I followed this tunnel in one dream and it lead to the outside, to a long gulley that in turn lead to a stone springhouse with an old wooden door. These cats scattered like mice when I’d enter the room. I wasn’t afraid of them, but wanted to get rid of them. I asked Todd in one dream if there are “exterminators but not exterminators” who handle cat infestations.

So anyway, back to Saturday night. I lived in a small city – and there was a lot of walking and moving things from place to place. And then suddenly I’m in labor. I’m in labor, but I know that I’m not progressed enough to be admitted so I’m hanging out at home in my apartment and I have no idea where Todd is. I’m breathing through the contractions, and it’s mostly dull pressure through my pelvis, and I’m just walking around stooped over and rubbing my lower back.

And then I woke up. And the discomfort I was feeling in my dream was real. OMG, I had to go to the bathroom. Seriously. The pressure in my bladder translated to labor pain in a dream. I’ve had the labor dream before, where again I couldn’t be admitted yet so I was walking around the lobby until I could. (Don’t remember if that one ended in the bathroom though.)

Next up: Work. I was at work. It was very busy, and this woman with a thick Russian accent walks in. She asks me if she can make an appointment for herself. Her car broke down and she’s stuck here, and just thought she’d find something to do. I explain to her that we are a pediatric office and she would need to go to an adult provider. She asks where one is. Downstairs I tell her, and then she asks for directions.

The next thing I know I’m walking down there while she waits in my office, giving her directions from my cell phone as I go. But her husband has taken over the call, and I’m giving directions to him. He thanks me and, as I’m walking back up to my office, he asks me if Dr. So-and-So is there. I tell him I’m sorry I don’t know which providers are there, that I’d have to google that information which he could just as easily do, and I really have to get back to the patients in my office.

When I get back, I’m sent to wait in the back exam rooms to direct patients – which really means I’m just standing around in an area with no windows and it’s terribly boring and I just want to get back to the front desk. I figure it’s because I’m the newest, and thus relegated to the least desirable tasks first.

Eventually I leave there and walk down the outside hall, and pass a grandmother who mutters something nasty under her breath. I turn back and ask her if there’s something I can help her with. She complains about how long she’s been waiting for her granddaughter to be seen and then, actually there’s FIVE children with her who are scheduled. I offer apologies and tell her I’ll go check the schedule and see what I can do to expedite matters. She apologizes to me for being so nasty and gives me a hug. I go back to the front desk and sit down at my computer, staring at the day’s schedule and not seeing any names. ANY names.

Mildly panicked, I tell Barb I can’t see any names. She is busy and can’t help me; in fact, she’s not even listening to me. I try other workstations and those screens are black and I can’t seem to log in to any of them. And then I notice that it’s getting dark in the office and no one has turned the lights on. I ask Barb where the light switches are, and she just says, “over there. Right there,” as if I have to be stupid not to know where they are. And I’m still asking her about the grandmother who’s waiting in the hall, and she finally tells me that their appointment isn’t until 5:30 and they’re an hour early.

By the time I go to tell grandmom this fact, they’re already being led back to an exam room and I’m off the hook. I go back to the front desk and there’s a handful of moms standing there, and suddenly there’s my DAD – telling a joke and everyone is completely enthralled. And I’m all like, Dad! What are you doing here?! And everyone looks at me like, ssssh!!!

And suddenly, it’s morning.



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