I had a very vivid, very specific dream last night about my sister-in-law and her two kids, my nephews. So vivid and specific that I could smell the spaces, feel the carpet beneath me feet, see the tiny details that brought the room to life. I woke up excited to write it down. But, by the time I got out of bed, let the dog out for her business, gave her a treat, started my hot water for tea and sat down at my desk, it was a blurry fuzzy memory.
I do remember that in my dream, my sister-in-law and the kids were living in a motel room with two cats here in America. Not a totally skuzzy one, but a motel only a few stars below an actual hotel. The nephews were TV stars on a low budget TV show along the lines of Romper Room and Barney. The kind with low production values but very high local viewership. And, for some random reason that I don’t know, I was staying just down hall in the same motel as they were. I remember at one point, I was in awe of their cat box solution – a mini hamper filled with towels that the kittens would climb into to use and, when finished, would leave no trail of cat litter. See, very specific. Very weird memory but very specific.
And yet, my sister-in-law is not, as I recall, a cat person. She’s a dog person and a wine person and clothes person but not a cat person. And my sister-in-law and the kids live in Scotland in lovely house overlooking the water. And the nephews are not on TV and have not been on TV- though I don’t doubt that they’d like to be on TV. And we have never stayed in a motel room at the same time. I’m not even sure she’s ever stayed in a motel room. She’s a hotel person. And, as far as I can remember, nothing I watched or read or looked at on the Internet last night had a motel room in it. Or cats. Or my sister-in-law. Or the nephews. Or even kids in a TV show.
So now, instead of a very specific dream I’m remembering, I’m left with this unsettled memory that has no background and nothing tangible to hold on to reassure me or give me answers. And that totally bums me out.
Because, even at my advanced age, I’m still hoping for some psychic super powers to suddenly become active in me.
Super powers I’ve always had but weren’t realized until one fateful moment – a bump on my head or a spider bite – they turn on and I can suddenly run faster than the speed of light, see farther than an eagle’s eye - you get the idea. Magic powers I choose to share with the world use to better it and make it a happier place. Psychic powers that will give me insight to the location of a missing kid. Or give me a glimpse into the future. Or will help me solve long cold murder cases bringing closure to families.
But no. Apparently my magic psychic super powers haven’t kicked in yet. I’m still plain, ordinary me. My magic powers are still only my ability to bump into anything and bruise, misspell any word and make any awkward situation even more awkward.
Or maybe my super psychic magic powers have kicked in, and my sister-in-law and the nephews will be moving to America so that they can star on a TV show and live in a motel just down the hall from me. I should let her know so that she can pack appropriately.
My name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me