While I like not feeling the pain, I don’t like the surreal aspect my life seems to take on. My dreams in particular are … bizarre.
Last night and the night before I dreamt about my Grandma. She passed away in November 1992, and there are times I still catch myself picking up the phone to call and share a joke or some other tidbit with her.
Both dreams were virtually identical, my brother and I were both visiting her in the home she lived in while we were growing up. We were adults, but were engaged in the same types of behavior we had as children. In particular I had swiped my brother’s bike to ride somewhere, and Grandma was asking me why I didn’t ride my own bike. I was explaining to her that Steve’s bike was cool and mine was dorky, so I swiped his to ride rather than ride my own.
I’m hoping that today I’m more focused and coherent; I’ve got a bunch of homework to do!