As I slept through Saturday morning--or tried to sleep, as Victoria the cat awakened me every fifteen or twenty minutes--I had a dream that frightened me.
It's been awhile since a dream's frightened me, and I think it was a result of my decidedly gloomy lines of thought of late, the abrupt changes in my life's routine for the decidedly worse, and the decidedly imaginative creatures created by the Jim Henson company for Farscape.
I dreamt that Trisa lived upstairs. I "awakened" one morning to her unceremoniously entering my room because she needed to use the computer. She eyed me coldly only for a brief moment to tell me that she didn't like my underwear. Then she sat down at the computer--the urgent matter that had required her attention was some nude pictures of herself that she had put on her web site. She commenced to simply staring at these while I gathered my clothes and made for the bathroom.
It was an awkward situation (for me anyway), and I think I was trying to reassure myself, convince myself that I must acclimate myself to such mornings. When I switched on the bathroom light, I saw in the mirror that a small, pale red-orange crab-like creature was on my glasses. Exactly like the half-moment of shock one might expect to feel in real life when abruptly noticing a dangerous looking spider on one's arm, I was stuck motionless before, in my terror, swatting quickly at the thing, knocking it off of my face before its pinchers could do any damage.
Going back into my room, wanting to tell Trisa about it, I was startled to see a giant worm like creature with a circular mouth rimmed with rows of razor sharp teeth lying on my bed--this thing startled me so much that I think I actually spoke (outside the dream), saying something like, "God damn!"
"What the frell is all this madness?" I asked Trisa (and yes, I clearly remember using the Farscape word "frell").
She told me distractedly that creatures were coming from a small gargoyle on a thin black rope that she'd given me as a present a while ago.
I then woke up.
“The sanest days are mad.” -Morrissey