Images from a Delirious Napper

I’ve had quite an emotional rollercoaster of a life for the last few days and, on top of that, I’ve not had enough sleep. It has boiled down to me being thoroughly exhausted this afternoon. I was attempting to slog through my Math lessons and was missing practically every problem so I decided to throw in the towel and catch a little shut eye.

From 1:30 to 3:00, I tossed and turned and was painfully conscious of every word that was running through my far too busy mind. I got up and peed then decided I would give it one more shot. I wanted to be fresh for dinner with my family.

From 3:00 to 4:00, I sank into oblivion, but not a restful one. I heard myself wondering in my dream state… “What on earth have I been smoking?!!!” It felt like I had crossed through the looking glass. Everything was upside down, backwards, inside out, HUGE when they should be small, PARTICLES when they should be huge masses. A very disorienting experience, to say the least. Here is a collection of some of the images I retained from my trip through Dream Land…

I was driving a car far too fast down a narrow parking lot, barrelling toward the exit gate and the police officer’s station. To slow down to avoid getting a ticket, I pressed with all my might on the brakes, then wondered why I wasn’t slowing down. Realizing I had put my foot on the floor and it didn’t make contact with the road (braking a la Fred Flinstone), I began to panic and searched for the “other” method of braking – the actual brake pedal. I slowed in enough time to not crash through the exit gate.
The police officer was stopping me to check my car’s fluid levels, not to arrest me for speeding. When my car was declared fit, I headed off and rounded a corner only to find I was back at the beginning of the parking lot.
At some point I picked up a baby whose diaper was so wet, its butt was heavier than his head and it tipped over, butt-up, in my arms. Somehow, and I’ve yet to understand how this worked in this world, the heavier butt made it so his head went down. Go figure.
I was doing math (of all things) in some bizarre room when my friend Kellie and her fiance Joe showed up in their full wedding regalia and wanted to take me on an adventure. They hustled off, but I couldn’t go because the baby needed its diapers changed. I wasn’t going to change the diapers. I was just going find the person that would.
After the baby disappeared, I left the room where I was doing homework to go find Kellie. I exited from the way I came in and found myself in a lobby where all the walls were painted to look like stairs, but there were no stairs and there were no doors. When I turned to go back through the door I just exited, there was a wall. When I turned around, there was a door that opened into the parking lot. When I attempted to exit, I found that the door was actually stairs painted to look like a door. I walked up the stairs and found myself in the same room I had started in. My math homework was spread all over the room now because of a huge, industrial-sized fan someone had placed in the room. The room was now painted purple and blue. To get to my homework, I had to jump on a couch to get up to the platform above where I had been sitting, then jump down to the other couch by where my papers were flying around in tornado fashion.
When I jumped up onto the platform, I had to duck and swerve to avoid the light fixtures that were hanging down everywhere. They were made of porcelain so sheer I could see through them, with colors that swirled around the surface. They were shaped like teapots.
Somewhere along the way, I spied flying pigs. They looked like cherubs, but they were, indeed, pigs.
The entire time, my thoughts were in Miss Countrie’s language.
I found myself in a room with empty picture frames everywhere – hanging on the wall, dangling from the ceiling, littering the floor. Everywhere.
In the purple and blue room there was a man who kept looking at his watch. Even though i was across the room from him, every time he looked at his watch I could see what he saw. His watch consisted of one pink strip and one blue strip of paper wrapped around his wrist and folded together to clasp at the center. The “face” of the watch was the time hand written in pencil. Every time he looked at his watch, I could see the time and it was written in this format: 09:32:57. Each time he’d look at it, he’d say, “That’s not the right time!” Then he’d tear off his watch. Magically, another watch would appear in time for him to look at it again and a different time would be written in pencil. I never saw how the watches were made or how they got on his wrist.