Entry tags:
dream theater
In my living room, talking to
datlowen about something he'd come over to pick up, or something. He was on his way out when the land line rang. Who could be calling me on this line, we both wondered, since I never give anyone that number. (In real life I don't even have a phone plugged in.) It was Gentleman Caller, and I waved so-long to N as I said hi, he let himself out, and GC said "Listen, I've been thinking - I'll see you on Saturday, but. Yeah. So, yeah."
My legs went out from under me, I couldn't draw a breath to call N back, and I woke up.
Dreams suck. :-(
My legs went out from under me, I couldn't draw a breath to call N back, and I woke up.
Dreams suck. :-(

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(Three nights in a row without taking lorazepam, though, and I haven't woken up in the middle of the night, or at least not such that I couldn't think "hang on, awake, that's not right" and turn over and go back to sleep. I was thinking I'd like not to be taking the damn things as a matter of routine like vitamins, so I'm glad to learn that I don't "need" them. Hurrah.)