These Dreams Go On

I’m a smart girl but there are plenty of times when I call my brains into question and I have to stand back to look at something I’ve done. Here are some examples:
I tried to flunk out of college and... that is harder than you would think it is.
I have a lot of pets… luckily, I’m the only one in the house with opposable thumbs or I would seriously be facing four-legged mutiny.
I got a 2001 Bitchin’ Honda instead of a 2003 Bitchin’ Honda because I WANTED a manual transmission.

But generally, I know the rules. I know what 2+2 is and I'm not going to really question it or think about it too much. I was never one for sneakiness and rule-breaking, at least not like some of the kids who I knew... you know, the ones who had seriously elaborate underground tunnels with a system of airlocks and a gravity-operated monorail that was silent.
Those kids were pros and they knew it I never tried to measure up in any way in terms of being a deviant genius. Some would say that I lack passion and could at least have committed to a lifetime of brilliant criminal activity but actually... no.
I'm just not that driven and I'm no genius.

Like, for example, last night.
It was not genius for me to answer the phone when I was in the dead of sleep. I rarely answer the phone, let alone while I am sleeping but last night, I went against my instinct and I answered. It was, shockingly, not one of my finest hours.

Have you ever had a conversation with someone and later, like for example the next morning, realized that you have no idea what you said? Now, I am not talking about the 3:30 am philosophizing that happens at the tail end of a good drunk with people that you hardly ever see and really don't want to see more often. Neither am I talking about being ‘That Girl Last Night’ and laughing the next day with your friends about how funny it was that you got so drunk you removed your belt and tied that one guy to the bar rail and then stood on the bar to lead the crowd in a rousing version of Don McLean's American Pie while also calling strikes, balls, and fouls for the “batters” throwing pretzels into the mouth of the dude you tied to the bar.

I'm talking about when you can't remember what you said because you are OLD and you were ASLEEP and it was like 10:15 PM, so if someone is calling your home phone that late, it is an emergency and something terrible must have happened. You have to answer that phone and if you're half-asleep, or totally out, it doesn't matter because the bad news at the other end of the line is going to jolt you awake with no problem.

But if it's your cell phone, you don't really need to answer, right? When my cell phone rang last night, and I answered it, I do not know how that happened. I don't know how the phone was on the dresser and then at my ear. It makes no sense, but who am I to argue the facts? The facts stand. I answered my cell phone. I was sleeping and incoherant and I answered the phone - god only knows what I said.

This morning, as I begin to accept that I was on the phone while pretty much having a lurid affair with a special guy I like to call Mr. Sandman, I started think that I mean, it can't be that bad, right? I’m not like…. Some weirdo. Is there anything I could have said that would be so awful?

I was almost finished convincing myself that there’s no way I could have been operating with no control of my ID.
And then I remember that earlier in the day, I had found cheese that I had put in the pocket of a jacket, where the cheese was forgotten for THREE WEEKS, or such time as when I put the jacket on and smelled Dairy Death rot.

Shit, I could have said anything because apparently?
I am not nearly as conscious as I think I am, regardless of whether it is while I am waking or while I am working. I could literally have said anything.

I imagine the conversation went something like this:
“Hi Sarah.”
“Are you sleeping?”
“Do you want me to let you go?”
(Pulling it together a little) (big sigh) h o w w a s y o u r d a y ?”
“It would have been a lot better if I hadn’t totaled my car and my dog hadn’t run into the street right as I pulled into the driveway, causing me to hit the dog, who died instantly, but not before I spilled my Indian take-out (left-over from yesterday’s lunch) all over my suede coat – yeah, my only coat but you know… all in all… I can’t complain.”
“What? Honey I can not understand you for some reason.”
I’m awake. I am, I’m totally awake. I am listening! Is something wrong? What’s happening? Could you get down from on top of that train before the dwarf finds you and drags you behind the red horse to the quarry? Hey! There’s Chelsea! She’s a tree! With wings!
I made you a Dreidel.
“Sarah? Go back to sleep.”

I am a lucky, lucky woman.

arizonasarah at 1:31 p.m.

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