I apologize up front for not having a clever tag for a Tuesday post.
Tepid Tuesday? Tedious Tuesday? Tiresome Tuesday?
Or, I could just go with …. Tuesday.
About the only thing good about Tuesday is that it is not Monday. But is that anything to feel good about? If I was Tuesday, I don’t think that would get me out of bed in the morning.
But then again, it pretty much takes dynamite to get me out of bed in the morning as it is.
I’ve always wanted to be one of those people that spring out of bed at the crack of dawn, and begin singing with woodland creatures who have somehow managed to break into my house for the sole purpose of singing a good morning song with me. Normally, we are appalled when we find a rat, a crow, and an armadillo in our house, but if they are singing, “Gooooood mornin’! Good mornin’! We’ve talked the whole night through!“, we find ourselves making allowances.
We also find ourselves making promises to not take LSD any more.
But I have never been one to spring out of bed for anything. Getting me out of bed is more of an exhumation. I always expect to wake up to find people delicately brushing me off with soft-bristle brushes and hand trowels, with the perimeter of my bed cordoned off with surveying transits.
You’d think, as deeply as I sleep, that I would have vivid dreams.
You’d be wrong in thinking that.
I rarely dream. And on those occasions that I do, my dreams are so incredibly mundane that they have actually bored me into a deeper cycle of sleep where there are no dreams.
For instance, on Sunday morning (my third consecutive day off from work as described quasi-humorously here) I dreamed that I was getting ready to go to work.
Yes, that’s right, I was actually dreaming about shaving and brushing my teeth and fretting that I was going to be late for work.
And, when awakened by that dream, my first thought was, “Dangit … I have to do all those things again, but this time for real.”
And over a disappointing Toast-R-Tart and a cup of coffee, I listen bleary-eyed to a recounting of a dream that involved bungee jumping off of Everest wearing a clown suit while baking a souffle.
And when it is my turn, I get to enjoy the disappointment of saying that I dreamed about waking up, but that the dream was not actually vivid enough to wake me up, so I actually went back to sleep in my dream and ended up dreaming about sleeping.
So … yeah … happy Tuesday.