The title of this post is not a reference to either Mamas and Papas song; rather, it is about my morning. This morning I woke up, turned off the alarm, turned on the lamp, and somehow fell back asleep. I dreamed I was reading my morning prayers from Magnificat, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed. Then I woke up, realized I'd been dreaming, got up, read my morning prayers from Magnificat, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. Then I REALLY woke up and realized 15 minutes had elapsed while I dreamed about getting ready instead of actually doing it.
In psychology, there is something called a "fugue state" in which a person is disassociated from the real world and has no memory of who they are. What's so fugal about that? I think those stupid dreams we have all had about getting up and doing our morning routine, waking up, doing our morning routine, waking up and doing our morning routine until we finally actually DO wake up are more like a fugue, in the sense of a piece by JS Bach or whoever with a theme that keeps coming back. My conscious mind would rather listen to the Fugue in G Minor by Bach, but my unconscious mind loves those dreams, I suppose because then it can convince me that I am getting ready for work when I am really just continuing to sleep.
This weekend T and I were planning to go snowshoing, but we ended up just walking out on the frozen lake. It was so beautiful! We did meet up with Anna Banana 2 and the snowshoers (Rich, A-Fooze, the B Boys, Cecil Markovitch and a guy from Trinidad) for dinner. A-Fooze thought the guy from Trinidad was the same person as a guy from Ghana I was madly in love with a few years back, and I said, "No, that was..." and then I couldn't think of his name for a whole minute or two. Out of sight, out of mind!
Friday I was at a baby shower, and a group of nurses gave the expectant mother a whole set of safety supplies, including door locks, outlet plugs, a choking hazard measure, and... a GUN LOCK exactly like the one T and I inadvertently tried to smuggle into Canada! Half the people didn't realize what it was, so T felt vindicated when I told her the story. Then she told me a really funny story about how, when she was once given notice of layoff, she spent a weekend shooting guns with her relatives up in the North Woods. One gun had quite a recoil and gave her a black eye, so she had to explain to all her coworkers what had happened. Without thinking about it, she repeated the story to a manager who asked about her shiner, and then he asked nervously, "Why were you shooting guns?" Her coworkers said she should have really played that one up! But she ended up getting another position at the same company, so just as well that they don't all think she's crazy. (After all, it's the quiet ones who totally snap!)
Famous Hat
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2 comments:
Guns, rifles or both? I certainly hope you are not referring to rifles as "guns," now... We offspring of U.S. Marines tend to be sensitive about that...
To paraphrase Butterfly McQueen, "I don't know nuthin' 'bout shootin' no guns!"
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