For the longest time, I quit dreaming.  Well, I didn’t quit, because every one of us dreams;  I only quit remembering them. 

But, recently, an onslaught of dream memories has appeared.

It is a tad disturbing.

A mishmash of people;  those who do and do not know one another find themselves connected in my mind for seemingly hours each night.

I’ve never had dinner with the President, but the other night, it seemed so real.

And why I found myself in Paris, in the same taxi cab with Peter O’Toole and Jerry Buie is beyond me.  I work with Jerry.  I’ve never met Peter.  It’s just ODD!

While in therapy a few years back, my Doctor wanted me to write down my dreams.  That was a little difficult since I was asleep, but each morning, or in the middle of the night when I awoke, I’d scribble notes on a  pad and take them with tme to each session.

I couldn’t read most of them, and they usually made no sense at all. 

Dreams are funny.  I rarely have scary ones, (I’m sure that’ll change tonight!), and the ones I do have are very confusing. 

It’s just strange:  disconnected people, places I’ve never been, things I’ve never seen.

Sometimes I’ll dream a passage from a book I’ve been reading, or sometimes I’ll dream of things from the past.  Sometimes I dream about my dad.

There is always at least one famous person in each dream I remember.

There is always blue, usually Royal Blue.

There are always cars.

There are always people with dark hair.

Some are happy, some are sad, and a rare one might be frightening.

Sometimes I don’t remember the dream until later in the day.  They seem less real then.  Dreams have a realness quality when I wake UP from one, remembering it vividly.  As the day wears on, and the dreams come back, they are less vivid, less bright, less real.

But I remember so many now.

And I wonder, if I remember this many now, how many more do I have that never come to mind?