I like this prompt from Mama Kat…
I was a fan of The Beatles from pretty much when they made their first appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show in February 1964, and think all their albums are works of art. One of my favorites is The Beatles, better known as “the white album.” I like all the songs on it (and don’t mind “Revolution 9,” not so much a song as a sound experiment by John & Yoko), especially the ones on Record 1, Side 2. Here’s one of them… “I’m So Tired.”
I don’t sleep well, and haven’t since my stroke nine years ago. I wake up several times during the night to answer nature’s call, and my brain kicks into high gear.
I do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen too often: I have my phone charging most nights, and have the sound of rain going all night on my iPod. Still, there are times when I just can’t get back to sleep.
I read somewhere that it’s normal to wake up in the middle of the night for an hour or more, and that people used to do this all the time. Some would even get up and go visit neighbors, or have something to eat, or just lie in bed and contemplate the great mysteries of life. I’ve tried treating it that way; the problem is, my brain kicks into high gear and doesn’t let me sleep.
When I do sleep well, I have some pretty vivid dreams. It’s like the memory of everywhere I’ve ever been mashes up together to sometimes comedic effect. I’ll be walking down the hall in my old high school, walk into a room, and be in a hotel lobby. I’ll walk into the bathroom in the hotel lobby and be on a CTA train. I’ll get off the train and be in my bedroom on Glenwood Avenue, where I lived in grammar school. I’ll go into the closet and find myself in an industrial kitchen, or maybe it’s a boiler room.
I really ought to write down my dreams immediately upon waking. Problem is, my writing hand was affected by the stroke. I could put a note in Evernote on my phone, but I really don’t want to do that. Then I know I’ll be awake for the night.
On the other hand, maybe it’s best I just remember the really crazy stuff.
What are your nights like? Do you remember your dreams?
from The Sound of One Hand Typing