these dreams

Like my dreams aren't bizarre enough to start with, they just get stranger when I have a fever. Lately, I have a hard time falling asleep and a harder time waking up.

I lay down for a few minutes at my parents' house yesterday while my laundry was running and was just out cold. After a couple of hours, completely aware that I was dreaming, I struggled myself out of bed. And stood there, and went, "Well, this is good . . . except I have a funny feeling I didn't get up." And I looked over my shoulder, and sure enough, I was back in bed.

I finally got myself out of that one by treating it like coming out of a particularly deep journey or meditation. Starting by wiggling my fingers and toes, then trying to open my eyes, etc.

And in the wee hours of this morning, I woke up with the clearest memory of having been asleep in my waterbed from high school. The bells I put on the pull chain of my lamp so I could find it in the dark had come off and were pressed into parts of the bed. I heard them ring as they rolled around. And I was being molested by dolls.

Yes, I'm using the word "molested" advisedly, and by dolls, I don't mean blow-up dolls or barbie dolls. We're talking teddy bears and Strawberry Shortcake. Or maybe it was just a cloth doll in a strawberry shortcake nightgown like the one I had when I was an itty bitty. I'm not quite clear on that, since by that point things were so bizarre I knew I was dreaming, and I was just trying to beat the dolls off long enough to wake up.

I suppose the fact that bizarre="must be dreaming" is clue enough of the fever right there. (Yes, I'm getting better. The fever's the necessary last step to burning this crap out of my system). Normally, I can jump out a window while the sea boils below me, be pregnant by a werewolf, or be working as part of the Rebellion (not infrequently on the verge of being caught and getting my ass kicked or killed) without ever having the feeling that it's a dream.