Right, so after the last horrid dream - see previous post - I've been trying to sleep more deeply and just "live" the dream as it were, experience it and put it aside and not get freaked out by it. Aliens? Invasions? Conspiracies? Pah. Mere trifles. Water off a duck's back.
And then my subconscious got me back last night. "I'll teach you to ignore me!" it roared.
And in a sweet stroke of revenge it unleashed a dream in which I heard the sound of someone turning the doorknob on the front door, crystal clear in my ears, so realistically that -
- that I actually woke, bolt upright, 100% awake, hyperawake even, adrenaline coursing through my veins, to the point that I got up and peeked out through the curtains to see if there was anyone there and then tiptoed into the hallway and deadlocked the front door, because both My One True Love and the Amateur Actress are away right now, and somehow I don't think I can count on the furry babies to protect me in the dead of night. What would Grimth do, smooch an invader to death? Smother him with love? Deafen him with purrs?
This was at 3am. An hour later, at four am I was still lying there, tensed, listening to every single sound outside and trying to identify the telltale sound of footsteps in the side alley.
I drifted back into sleep eventually, and it was all about men invading my home, from the front and the back, swarming in through windows and doors, and me needing to take drastic action with a baseball bat - I can still vividly remember in blinding detail, the practice swings I had to take with it in the bathroom in order to get the velocity and momentum correct in order to wield enough force to smash his brains in when he put his head through the doorjamb.....
This just goes to show, do not ignore your subconscious. It will exact its vengeance.
So subconscious, I am not ignoring you. I am just innocently posting little photos of my two new Hoots - Yossarian Hoot (in camouflage, My One True Love says I should call him the Hootinator), and Fly Away Home Hoot, with the little red ladybirds.
Fly Away Home, subconscious. Your house is on fire and your children are alone.