April 27, 2003

• My days and nights have been all screwed up and backwards of late.
  
  I had an interesting experience today, in that I was dreaming about being in a recurring dream location doing something (the location recurrs, but not the rest of the dream, kind of like the set on a TV sitcom). For some reason I started screaming bloody murder, and it woke me up.
  
  This was after 4 hours of sleep, at about 11am. I was in a low-blood-sugar, semi-nauseus, who the fuck woke me up at this hour kind of state.
  
  It had been the doorbell. The second I realized this I became petrified, there under the blankets. It was as if I had discovered that there were burglars in the house.
  
  I listened intently. No sound of anyone talking outside, no one walking around. No one knocking in case the bell was broken.
  
  I was having an anxiety attack after 4 hours of sleep for my already-whacked circadian systems. I decided to peek out the bedroom window, which is next to the front door. But I couldn’t move the curtains, or They Would Know I Was There. But, I thought… My car is there in the driveway, and they know I have weird hours. Who knows I have weird hours? The neighbors. But maybe it’s not the neighbors..? Well, if it’s not a face I’ve ever seen before, I sure as hell don’t want to deal with it in this mental state.
  
  Then it occurred to me that I had been screaming in my dream. Had I been screaming in the world, too? Had they rung the bell to maybe wake me up if I was dreaming, or to find out if someone was being murdered or something?
  
  I imagined hearing screaming from a house, going to ring the doorbell, and the screaming stops. Were my neighbors waiting for me to answer the door and verify that I was having nightmares?
  
  I peeked through a tiny gap in the curtains. I didn’t dare move them to get a good view. I couldn’t make any determinations from what I saw.
  
  I went back to bed and sat there until I had some composure. About a half hour later I got dressed enough and went to see if someone had left a note on the door. No such. Haven’t heard from anyone for the rest of the day, either. Still a mystery. I don’t even know if I dreamed the doorbell, too.
  
  
  I remember a few years ago, when my brother got married. I couldn’t go get fitted for a tux, because I insisted on wanting to do it alone. I put it off and put it off. Finally, with deadlines looming, my dad took me to the place and it all happened, no problem.
  
  On the way out, I told my dad, with as much humor as I could mix in to my self-disgust, “I hate being nuts.” His response was an out-of-character bemused chuckle.

  • 9:36 am
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