jarissa: (Default)
 I'm up early because a friend's house is getting emergency repairs against last Saturday's storm, and I'm the contact person in case it's worse than it looked from the ground.

This morning I was dreaming about magnets.  Different shapes and strengths, all in large quantities, each small enough that a bunch of the same style would fit in my hand at one time.  I kept finding these magnets mixed in with other things, and sorting them out to add to my inventory, because I had to solve a "how to fix the chair" puzzle and a "how to sneak past that amateur golfing-as-combat class without breaking any of the glass statuary" puzzle.

Apparently I play an awful lot of puzzle-based games.  You'd think I'd be dreaming about the guy who tried to murder me back on the 17th, or at least about trying to control a vehicle in adverse conditions, but nooooo:  I'm dreaming puzzle-solving games, almost entirely on foot.

And even in the dreams, I'm so tired that what I really want is just to go to sleep.  I have to solve these puzzles to accomplish a Major Goal so that I will have the liberty of taking a nap.

It's a plot!

Tue, Apr. 8th, 2008 12:38
jarissa: (Default)
I dreamt last night that Darling #1 Husband was divorcing me -- that, in fact, he'd been planning to do so for an indeterminate long time, secretly squirrelling away money in a separate account so that he'd be able to afford to get his own place.  I couldn't get a straight answer out of him as to why, at least, not until he suffered an accident at his new place of work and then I (as newly-ex-wife) couldn't badger the hospital into letting me see him.  (And why, my darling, would you go to work at an experimental ammunition factory?)

None of this is true, of course:  D#1H and I just leased him a new car, we're making vacation plans, and while I do often comment on his "Internet Mistress" the fact is that he's not even having a cyberaffair.  He's just one of those guys who have no trouble making friends as an adult, but still subconsciously thinks of himself as "unpopular" in the way he was relatively friendless during childhood.

Still, I can't entirely blame this one on the NyQuil.  Some days I really wish I could pull my subconscious psyche out and give it a good, stern talking to.

NyQuil dreams

Tue, Nov. 6th, 2007 13:56
jarissa: (Default)
NyQuil is a great solution to certain troubles, but it does something to really rile up my subconscious while I'm under its effects.  I'll never get addicted to the stuff because I don't want to have those sorts of dreams any more often than strictly necessary.

This morning, f'r instance, I dreamt of suffering a home invasion, and being unable to bring in cops.

Now, folks will say that it's impossible to read or deal with numbers in a dream; and that's not true.  I think it's more a case of what's considered "work" and what's "as natural as breathing":  I can read in my dreams, no trouble at all, and even write in them (though that often fails to turn out as I intend, in the dream).  I can do basic math, counting and adding and subtracting, but any multiplication beyond "four people, with three doughnuts each, is a dozen doughnuts, so yes, I think there's enough to be sharing with Dad" devolves into chaos.  I've read some very interesting books during dreams, and some pretty boring shopping lists, and that's just not a useful test of whether I'm experiencing reality or fiction.

What I'm saying is that not only can I dial 9-1-1 on a cellphone in a dream, but that I can figure out it's not my cellphone when I navigate to the address book and can't find Huntsville Police Nonemergency or Madison Police Nonemergency as entries.  I can count seven screenfulls of telephone numbers I don't recognize, five numbers to a screen, and realize this means I've got the bad guy's phone and it lists thirty-five potential informants or accomplices, all while shouting at the 911 telemarketer that this is NOT how the emergency service is supposed to work, I am NOT buying a gift certificate for a future search-and-rescue opportunity, and why the HELL won't they connect me to the Huntsville Police, they're NINE ONE ONE for Deity's sake.

Another thing I can't do in dreams, although I know this one's unique to me, is hit worth a damn.  When I try to attack someone, via fists or even open-handed slap or Magic Powers, I get the faintest sense of slow-motion impact and no progress at all.  During this Nyquil dream, I apparently figured out a way around it:  since the police couldn't be summoned, and the home invader family was still rummaging cheerfully through my home, I started putting enough pressure on the bratty early-teen kids' arms to leave bone-deep bruises, and make a threat to break their arms seem viable.  I knew I'm not strong enough to do that to adults, no matter how furious my self-defense might be, so I started shouting for C and D while digging out a weapon.  (And of course, still trying to get hold of my own cellphone so I could call in the proper authorities.)  What's the best thing to use against a bad guy with an advanced case of leprosy?  Crushing weapons, maybe, because if the bone is too damaged for the muscle to pull against it, he's not going to walk any further into my upstairs hallway no matter how little sensation he might have.

As far as I can tell, the theory that "emotional moderation control" is offline during dream sessions is correct.  I've had dreams where I know I'm overreacting, try to force myself to calm down and think, and wind up overreacting in another direction altogether.  Switching from livid to despairing to hysterical anxiety is exhausting.

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Jarissa

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