Musing on sleeping.

I’ve been dreaming of Disneyland lately. Of queueing in lines full of bored people in dark caves full of water, of lounging around waiting nervously with ride buddies, and of rides that feature sitting in a lifesaver ring and being shot off waterfalls.

I’m not sure if the dreams mean I want to go to Disneyland, or whether it just means I want to be shot off the top of a waterfall in a lifesaving device. I’m pretty sure , though, that it doesn’t mean I’ve gotten over my fear of being in dark places full of water. Everyone knows pool sharks love dark shadowy water.

Last night the wind at my place blew so hard and so loud that when it stopped in between gusts the silence was so complete, and startling that it made my heart pound. The wind whistled through the loose catch on my kitchen window, and slammed itself against my walls, and screeched over my roof, making the house shudder. I fell asleep imagining I could feel the pressure shifting in the house as it was battered and tossed around in my hill top.

Most nights I wake with a furry body pressed tight against my neck. Often the fury body is snoring. I’ve never been one for sharing a bed – I prefer space over being moulded to someone elses sleeping preferences. I am a free range sleeper, too avant guard to be resigned to the classic ‘left side’ ‘right side’ sleeping arrangement.

Despite this the cat has managed to worm his way into my sleeping space. It seems you can remain a free-range sleeper, even with a furry anchor wrapped around your head.


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