I Don't Want to be Clairvoyant

Last night, I had one of the worst nightmares imaginable.  Now, I know what you're thinking.  "Go ahead and tell me in excruciating detail about something that didn't actually happen."  Because that's what dreams are.  And I normally hate it when people share them.  In the great scheme of things, they don't really matter at all.

However, this dream got me thinking pretty hardcore.

A few months ago, my good buddy's father passed away.  This sucks a lot.  His dad was a pretty cool dude.  And to make it even worse, the funeral was scheduled for my buddy's birthday.  In my dream, I had magically gotten the ability to go back in time.  Now, because dreams are particularly logical, there was no such thing as chaos theory or anything like that.

I assume that events outside of my direct influence would continue to happen as they do.  So I forced myself to travel back in time, and I went to talk to my buddy.  But the only way I could think of to actually -prove- that I was from the future was to make allusions to his father's death.  This did not go over well.  At all.  And he refused to speak with me.

I think the most depressing thing is that even in my superpower  fantasies, I am still incredibly awkward and tactless.

Driving is Unfun

Part of my job requires that I spend a lot of time in the car.  Which I really don't like to deal with at all.  The main problem is that no matter how well I try to pay attention to everything going on around me, there's still a huge chance that I am going to get blindsided by something.

The largest concern is the presence of those giant green road signs.  Usually the ones that sit under bridges.  The big scary ones that get caught by the wind and flap around like crazy.  They are made of steel and if falling from high enough at exactly the right moment, could rip through the roof of my car and cut me in half.  Sure, death would be instant but it would be a disgusting mess.

The easiest way to prevent them from falling on my head is to grit my teeth, force my tongue into the roof of my mouth and inhale quickly.  This gives what I presume to be a protective shield around my head.  So even if they did fall, I would remain unharmed.

It's worked pretty well so far.

Dvorak in the Dark

I bought noise-cancelling headphones today.  I can't hear a damn thing.  It's insane.   Unfortunately, I can't really listen to any music with them on because while they cancel most of the outside noise, any sort of click or bump in the house makes me thing that somebody is screaming my name.

The house is readjusting to the warm weather?  It's a summons for my attention.

Water rushes through the pipes?  Somebody is screaming for help.

It's incredibly unnerving.  I can't really handle it.  I have taken off my headphones and reeled around multiple times to prepare myself to help... but nothing has happened.  Fortunately, nobody has caught me doing this compulsive, repeated action (and if they did, the mockery would be unending).

The only thing that has really managed to save me is my recording of Dvorak's Symphony Number 9 (The New World Symphony).  Movement no. 4, Allegro con fuoco, makes my entire body feel happy.  And best of all, I don't hear anyone screaming for help when I'm listening to it.

Thank you, you zany Czech bastard.

Of course, there is a pretty good chance that this music is the only thing keeping me from saving those who actually DO need my help.  In which case, he does a complete 180 from savior to executioner.

But isn't that the way it usually works?

Teethfallingoutnightmares.

I have a lot of bad dreams at night.  Probably ever night.  I'm assuming every night.  I don't remember them all.  Most of them are teethfallingoutnightmares.  These are common for a lot of people.  They usually start with my molars.  Loose in the gums.

Gross.

I can move them with my tongue.  They wiggle and I taste blood.  Most of the nightmare is anticipating when exactly I'm going to lose the teeth.  When they do come out, I either chew them up or swallow them.  Usually I wake up before I have time for all of them to fall out.



Once, though, they all did.  It was awful.  I could feel my exposed gums and tongue the little holes where teeth once were.  I mashed my gums together and tried to talk, but I could not speak.  I found a mirror in a dark room and flipped on the switch.  The first thing I saw was the numb, blood-covered, pink mess in my mouth.  But when I inspected my face, the person looking back at me was not me.  I don't remember his features exactly... just that his eyes were just as empty as our mouths.

Scary.

I am convinced that some day I will meet him.  I know he is out there and he wants to find me.

And when he does, we're going to have a lot to talk about.