i dream
in really bright colors, even during the years my life was shades of gray. i dream of places i don't know awake, of people whose histories, whose very skin i know but only when i sleep. i know which way to turn in an unfamiliar town, a town i know, buildings i recognize not from here but from some other. other.
after npr comes on in the morning, i have that fitful half awake sleep, the way that one does floating off with the knowledge you should really be making your coffee right. now. this morning, in that ten (twenty. thirty.) minutes, i had an astonishing, very detailed dream that ran with a story on the radio near my ear.
the report was an interview of an emergency room doctor, and his day and how his ridiculously busy day was emblemetic of the current crisis point that america's emergency rooms are approaching, if not already approached. as i was listening to this story and sleeping, i saw the doctor - maybe a beautiful, slightly dimunitive but muscular gay man, with carefully styled blond hair and a white tunic top, blue jeans. (the radio story was a voice over for the dream, simultaneous to me.) he was standing at the counter, poring over patient charts, while the radio told me what he was thinking. and he was aided by great nurses who would pop up to help this doctor they adored: each was more caring and efficient than the last. each was also more obese than the last; incredibly obese, circus obese, round and soft and with different versions of badly permed brown hair.
but it didn't really matter, because the entire staff was working hard together to keep this emergency room calm and relatively drama free. no one was in scrubs, but everyone was so very professional and poised. the detail in this dream was so clear, i could see each strand of hair carefully highlighted (and very well done) on the doctor's head and each ripple in each of the nurses' faces, each crazy curl on their head.
those dreams after you wake up and drift off again are really the most ridiculous ones. perhaps this means i should really wake up when i'm supposed to. this isn't the first radio dream; it won't be the last.
i might add that there were no drugs in the making of this dream. only mangos from costco the night before.
after npr comes on in the morning, i have that fitful half awake sleep, the way that one does floating off with the knowledge you should really be making your coffee right. now. this morning, in that ten (twenty. thirty.) minutes, i had an astonishing, very detailed dream that ran with a story on the radio near my ear.
the report was an interview of an emergency room doctor, and his day and how his ridiculously busy day was emblemetic of the current crisis point that america's emergency rooms are approaching, if not already approached. as i was listening to this story and sleeping, i saw the doctor - maybe a beautiful, slightly dimunitive but muscular gay man, with carefully styled blond hair and a white tunic top, blue jeans. (the radio story was a voice over for the dream, simultaneous to me.) he was standing at the counter, poring over patient charts, while the radio told me what he was thinking. and he was aided by great nurses who would pop up to help this doctor they adored: each was more caring and efficient than the last. each was also more obese than the last; incredibly obese, circus obese, round and soft and with different versions of badly permed brown hair.
but it didn't really matter, because the entire staff was working hard together to keep this emergency room calm and relatively drama free. no one was in scrubs, but everyone was so very professional and poised. the detail in this dream was so clear, i could see each strand of hair carefully highlighted (and very well done) on the doctor's head and each ripple in each of the nurses' faces, each crazy curl on their head.
those dreams after you wake up and drift off again are really the most ridiculous ones. perhaps this means i should really wake up when i'm supposed to. this isn't the first radio dream; it won't be the last.
i might add that there were no drugs in the making of this dream. only mangos from costco the night before.
posted by pooja* at 12:10 PM
2 Comments:
You're really very good, you know. I love the whole stream of consciousness type of writing. I was gonna say....it kinda sounded like you had a couple special brownies or something. But I know how those times between wake and sleep can go. I had a trippy dream-like state with the tv on one time, but it was during the middle of the night. Interesting what creeps into our brainwaves when we're vulnerable.
mmm...mangos. i'm allergic, but i still eat them. blessed pain.
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