I have crazy dreams.
Like, really crazy. Like I go out to get a pizza and there is a dinosaur attacking the town and all of a sudden I am pushing my niece in a doll stroller while the dinosaur chases us through a corn field.
Or I am a mother of two teens in the 17th century and we have to journey across a huge field, passing through a large grass fire and climbing over an iceberg, and my son dies in my arms of hypothermia.
Or, I am kidnapped by my parents’ cat and held hostage in a dollhouse balcony with Wendy, John and Michael from Peter Pan.
And then there are the dreams that I don’t remember having, but Luke does because I wake him up in the middle of the night shrieking that their are bugs in the bed.
Tortured soul, much?
So I am going to start writing them down, and maybe some of you can help me decipher them 🙂
(That’s my shameless plea for comments… I can see my site stats, I know you’re reading. Gimme some love, please???)
Quickly: last night I dreamt that I had a fever of 140 degrees and that Dr. Kevorkian was going to come “help me out.” Yuck!
Later I will tell you about the two “prophetic” dreams I have had.