Does real life ever infiltrate your dreams?
That happened to me last night.
My husband came home some time in the middle of the night after working until 1 a.m. He unloaded the dishwasher and made the boys' lunches. Then he knocked into the office chair as he came into the bedroom with some folded laundry. (I know, overachiever.)
I woke up and thought how thirsty I was. But I was too tired to get up and get a drink of water. I could have asked Earl to get it, but he had already done so much.
He also fed the cats (at 3 in the morning?) but maybe that would keep them from bugging us in the morning. He climbed into bed and a few minutes later I heard the older cat throwing up.
"He's throwing up," I said and pushed the covers back.
"I'll get it,"my prince of an Earl said. And he did. He cleaned it up and talked to the cat for a few minutes before coming back to bed.
Then I slept. In my dream, we were visiting someone else's house, someone with a lot of cats. I went to open the front door and cats were coming in and going out.
My cat, Tybalt, was there.
Why would we take our cats to visit someone?
Tybalt is an indoor cat but he snuck out so I had to grab him and bring him back in.
Then I opened the door again to let more cats in and Tybalt jumped and hit the other cat in midair. Wham! The impact took them several feet out into the yard. They wrestled together in the snow. It was like a cartoon cat fight!
The next thing I knew, I was standing in the kitchen of this strange house drinking water from a big plastic pitcher. That's how my thirst infiltrated my dreams -- a pitcherful of water.
Then my alarm sounded at 5:10 a.m. and I pressed it off. I needed to get up and write and exercise. I have to work today at 9.
The next thing I heard was Tucker's alarm going off. 7 a.m.
So much for good intentions.
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