What do my dreams tell me?

Sunday was spent mostly resting. I'm not one for naps and if I happen to zonk out it's not intended. A cat nap at best, but Sunday brought a new name for nappyland. I slept for three hours and felt as though more could have been had. Seeing the clock jolted me awake as dinner needed to be prepared for Mancub. I always feel guilty when I'm home and not making the most of the time spent with him. We may be grounded to the house due to lack of funds, but quality time can be watching a movie or program on television together.

My return to work after four days off was relatively uneventful. I wasn't hit with a barrage of news about things gone awry. One associate told me it seemed that I took more time off and that I was missed. That's always a welcome thing to hear.

Once I got home from work around 7:00 PM, I quickly prepared mini-burgers for Mancub. Having only eaten my lunch around 2:30 I wasn't feeling hungry. Since I hadn't had my Shakeology for the day, that chocolate drink served as a filler until real hunger set in.

Mancub and I watched Beetlejuice. Considering Michael Keaton only had about 15 minutes of screen time, he made that movie what it is. Great movie even today. Quality time with my son. I really get a kick out of him loving movies that were popular from my youth. Now I understand why my Mom loved watching old movies with the kids.

Bedtime beckoned around 10:30. Of course I didn't go to sleep immediately. I turned on Forensic Files. When I started to fall asleep during the second installment I flicked off the tube and fell into slumber. That's when the weirdness began.

I don't usually have vivid recollection of dreams. So, this will be spotty at best. There's rarely a continuous flow or storyline in my nocturnal mental releases. I wish they played out more like a mini-sode. So, if you're ready, here goes ...

The dream begins in what appears to be a school. A college setting to be exact. I know this by the other students milling about and the type of courses being discussed. I'm with a man who bears a striking resemblance to Christopher Plummer circa The Sound of Music. I'm not sure if I'm a student or an employee of the college because I am in the office of this man and we are canoodling behind closed doors. I feel a great sense of mutual admiration and comfort. He asks if I have concern over our age difference. To which I reply that age is merely a number and I'm happier than I've ever been with another person.

Jump forward. I'm in a stair case that is open. I can see other people climbing the stairs on floors above me. I spy the subject whose arms I had been entwined in previously. I smile and wave. He gives a flippant, casual wave. The kind of wave you give to someone you either don't recognize or don't want to openly acknowledge to those around you. Also, the man's image has gone from Christopher Plummer to this man. Yep. Dean Wormer. Oof! I awakened with question in my mind. Maybe eating that egg white and spinach omelet at 9:00ish wasn't a good idea.

I know I had another dream once I fell back to sleep. Recall is about as clear as the bottom of the river after a heavy rain. So, you'll have to be content with that goofy arsed dream with Captain Von Trapp.