Wanted to blog post before going to sleep, but didn't because, for some reason, Mother (and eventually Father) wanted to cook something late at night. I think they were still cooking in the kitchen when I finally fell asleep around midnight. Not mad about going to bed early, though, because I could have used the early sleep time.
By blog posting now, I have something to blog post about. Specifically it's about a nightmare, the first one I've had in a long time. I've thought that the reason I haven't had one recently is because I haven't been able to sleep for a period long enough for the dark recesses of my mind to conjure up one. I woke up a quarter after 5 this morning, however, so I had just about more than five hours only in which to have one.
And here it is: I saw my old car, the red Jeep that was eventually given to me by my parents, who bought it for themselves. By the time I got it it was a piece of junk, and in its last years of life it had such a bad problem that it was virtually unusable even though I had to rely on it for the last year of its life. (This conjures up bad memories; maybe I'll talk about it some other time.) But I was gazing at the Jeep, sitting on our driveway, from afar. And I knew it was going to explode, right in the middle of our neighborhood, and it was ... uh, planned that way, even though I had the urge to go up to the car and stop it, somehow. (With nightmares I'm always vague with the details although I'm very sure with how I felt at the time.) I thought I said in the nightmare, "It's going to explode!" to which someone I do not see says, "Let it happen!" And I woke up before it exploded, or before something happened.
I knew it was an intense nightmare because, when I woke up, I made a pretty sizable imprint into the left pad of my anti-grinding retainer. As frightening as it was to be in the middle of it, for some reason I think having nightmares is good for your health.
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