Man, I had both a terrible night’s sleep last night and I slept like a rock.
It took me a long time to get to sleep in the first place (too tired to take my night meds, too wired to nod off), then I woke up at every little sound until my husband went to bed. I don’t think I was tossing and turning much, though, because I woke up with my back muscles all knotted up…possibly because I didn’t take my nightly muscle relaxer.
Another possibility: I was moving around so much in my damn dreams that my body is worn out. I had dreams of walking cross-country, taking a long trek for some reason or another–a quest-worthy reason–that involved old friends, Stephen Amell, and assassins. And humanoid aliens. My long walk apparently took me into space as well.
Stephen Amell was pretty nice. He tried to protect me from the assassins, which I thought considerate given that he doesn’t know me. Old friends were mostly waypoints on my journey, places more than people but people all the same. I walked to Alabama. I walked to Ohio. I walked to places I’ve never been before.
The aliens had some pretty opulent jewelry, which was sold in malls. Space malls. That I walked to. And shopped in. With Wolverine. Well, Old Man Logan. He was my dad, I guess. In the dream that is.
Aside from the aliens, the analytical part of me can pinpoint all the events of yesterday that could lead to these dream elements. I’ve been eager to be rid of this fracture boot–hence the walking. I watched Flash—which crosses over with Arrow quite frequently, hence Stephen Amell. I talked with my husband about the various people who we’ll have over to visit when our house is built. And I talked with my sister about seeing Logan in the theaters.
So there are the pieces of the strange puzzle of my subconscious mind, haphazard and random. None of the “major” parts of the previous day played a part; no cosplay, no immediate family, none of that. Funny how dreams work.