I started off this post by writing a few paragraphs about the debt crisis, filled to the brim with griping about partisan politics, scumbag banks, and corrupt governments. I was about to hit "publish post", but I decided to read through it. It was whiny and I hated it. So I scratched 45 minutes of writing and decided I would rather just talk about something cooler, dreams.
There are two kinds of dreams. The first are your goals and aspirations. When I was a kid, I dreamed of growing up to be Randy Moss. When I was a young high schooler, I dreamed of getting laid. When I was a senior, I dreamed of living on my own and being in college. In college, I dream of making money, traveling, and life after college (not that I am looking forward to it, just dreaming). These are important at all, but for this article, I don't care about em.
The second kind of dreams are the actual dreams you have every night. Everyone has them, and you mostly forget the details, if not forget them entirely. These are your standard medieval duel dreams, the "I'm a penguin" dreams, or dreaming Chad Ochocino retweeted you. All equally awesome.
But last night, I dreamed something that actually altered my life today. It changed what I did, and may have a prolonged effect on my personal health. I know, dramatic.
I had an appointment with my physical therapist today at 1:00pm. This is normally earlier than I would get up, as my sleep cycle is all sorts of abnormal thanks to my awesome second shift warehouse job. I didn't set an alarm, because whenever I set an alarm I have a terrible time sleeping, waking up constantly throughout the night because I know I am going to be startled at some point by my alarm. Typically just knowing I have to get up for something is enough to get me up for it, alarm be damned. So, as always, I woke up on time. I got dressed, drove to the office, checked in, sat in the waiting room, talked to my PT, went through all my treatments, left the office, scheduled another appointment, drove home, and went back to bed for a catnap. I got up from my catnap what seemed like about an hour later. I went downstairs to the bathroom and then went back to bed. It seemed like another half an hour later or so before I woke up again, this time actually looking at the clock. At first it seemed that 1:30pm didn't make much sense, since I had a 1pm appointment and had taken a nap after it, but I was pretty much half asleep still so it didn't quite click. It was time to clean up and start my day. The instant water hit my face, I had the craziest snap back into reality I have ever experienced. As you can pretty clearly deduct from my little anecdote here, I didn't go to my appointment. Apparently, dreaming you were there doesn't count as actually being there. I fell victim to a real life "And it was all just a dream!" trope. Dreaming is awesome.
EDITOR'S NOTE: I wrote the majority of this with my chin firmly rested on my right collar bone in order to hold the Kleenex over the gash I gave myself shaving. Not to boast or anything, but I play through pain.
EDITOR'S SECOND NOTE: I say awesome too much. I need a new awesome word to replace my incessant use of awesome.
No comments:
Post a Comment