Sour Dreams

I've never been a heavy sleeper but lately I've been waking up remembering bizarre dreams which I often return to upon going back to sleep. The overwhelming sensation I have in these dreams is frustration. I will analyze this later.

The Travel Dream is the number one vehicle for my mental meanderings. Last week I found myself in Israel visiting Marty's family where I was inexplicably in charge of their donkey. This was a very bad donkey who kept escaping, much to my relief and chagrin. For some reason, I was also in charge of all the children who also challenged my patience with their constant demands for food and entertainment. Wasn't a donkey enough? The relatives, whom I've never met, were equally annoying. The old uncle, who's been dead for years, sat propped up in an armchair, stuffed and wearing his best suit. The aunt kept wishing me Merry Christmas. In the adventure part of the dream, I got locked out of the building only to find myself in a very rough part of the city where I was assaulted by thieves. I had this dream several times in two weeks. The only pleasant aspect was my ability to speak Spanish with the cook who made me platters of huevos revueltos for the young hungry hordes.

Last night, I piled into an old car with my parents and siblings (one of whom was my daughter Mariel) and took off on a trip to Canada. The first night we stayed in a crappy motel. My parents were replaced by friends whom I won't mention because they were so annoying. Again, I was charged with caring for children while I tried to cook a gourmet dinner using skillets made of pastry. No one was happy in this dream. We would never get to Canada where we were renting a cottage for a week. I woke up after losing all my charges on the NYC subway and realizing I'd forgotten half my possessions, including my eyeglasses, in the motel. It was after 6 so I decided to get up. There was no way I wanted to return to that dream.

Why all the frustration? My life is smooth as silk at the moment. I have few responsibilities gnawing at my days. Is Turbo the donkey? Are my friends, family and children really that annoying?

I suppose it's better to have sour dreams than sour days. My days aren't all sweet but there are no donkeys, no hungry people with picky appetites and few travel nightmares. May it stay that way.