TheBanyanTree: I had a dream

[Monique Young]

During second sleep. I woke up this morning at 4:40, typical for a Thursday
because one of us goes to work at the undogly hour of 6 am on Thursdays.
Usually I don't care and fall back asleep, but this time I woke up before
the alarm, with the certainty that today was the 26th and that I'd missing a
tax filing deadline. Sales tax is due on the 25th for monthly filers, on the
31st for quarterly and annual filers, and several days ago I'd prepared the
sales tax for a monthly filer, but hadn't submitted nor paid it yet because
I'd wanted to let them know their options. They'd asked about paying with
AmEx so they could accumulate miles, and I'd advised them that yes, this was
most certainly possible, but the fee that would be charged was way out of
line. And then I hadn't gone back in and submitted and paid by debiting
their checking account.

                I got up and went downstairs, sat at my computer, went
online to the Department of Revenue, and filed and paid the sales tax that
was due. It wasn't as if I'd had to do anything, since I'd already prepared
it. It was then that I found out that today is the 25th, not the 26th, and
it's right on time. 

                Then, when Andrew was on his way downstairs for his early
morning shift, I laid down on the couch and went back to sleep. Honey slept
on the couch with me, while Ash had to be content with staying inside his
comfortable collapsible kennel. (When he's in it, it's often more collapsed
than not. The other day he walked it over to the couch and tried to climb up
on the couch to be with me, not caring that he was inside a large
rectangular nylon and black netting object designed to keep him inside.) 

                And I had a dream. I was throwing a party. It was a large
party, at my house, except obviously not this house since the most I can
have here for a party is probably twenty, maybe twenty five if we all really
like each other. I know, I've tried, and if there were more we'd have to
expand into the upstairs. 

                My guests were not familiar to me. That was okay with me,
and I'd planned it that way. Here and there were people I knew, but most of
the guests were strangers. I'd walk up to a stranger and ask, "Do you know
who's throwing this party?" And the guest would look at me wide-eyed and
say, "Of course." I'd ask if they could point out the host to me, so I could
talk to him or her, and that was then the guest would try to convince me
that it wasn't necessary, or that they weren't going to give me that
information because they didn't think I needed to know, when the truth was
that they didn't know, but who wants to admit to crashing a party? (Well,
perhaps I do, but that's another issue entirely.) 

                I went through the group causing trouble in quite this
manner, sometimes letting them know that it was my largesse that was
providing the bounty of food and entertainment they were enjoying, sometimes
not. In the front yard, which was as large as half a football field, trees
were being cut and used for landscaping. I don't know why, except we had to
cut the trees for some reason and I wanted it all done at the same time as
the party was going on. 

                I didn't care that there were people there I didn't know.
Was I trying to prove a point? I don't know. My own motives are unknown to
me, when they come from dreams. 

                I had another dream. Seth came to my wedding.

                When I woke up I didn't wake up all the way. I lay in the
half sleep twilight world where reality is only a step away, but sleep is
heavy and comfortable and safe, with my dog sleeping at my feet and only the
barest murmur of sound from downstairs, directly underneath me. I can't hear
him when he's on the phone, I can certainly never hear what's being said,
but sometimes I can hear the soft  susurration of counseling, a barely
discernible blip that lodges within my unconscious and reminds me that I am
not alone. I lay in my asleep state, hesitant to move, knowing that when I
did I would be awake, and the day would have to begin again. It's not that I
mind starting the day, it's not that I'm avoiding it, but where I was at was
so comfortable and safe and calm that I stayed as long as I could, existing
on a plane that's not quite sleep, not quite waking. 

                I heard movement downstairs, treads on the stairs, and knew
it was time to wake up. I hope he was on break and not at the end of his
shift, because the end of his shift would be 10 am, and I'm supposed to be
somewhere at 10 am. It wasn't, it was his break, but now it is 10 am, two
minutes till, and I'm still not where I'm supposed to be at 10 am and won't
be for twenty more minutes, more or less, depending on when I pack up my
laptop and get out the door. 

                Out the door where my dreams are of a different nature
altogether, but where life often makes no more sense than my dreams. 

 

Monique