've had dreams for
four consecutive nights now. Thursday morning, I dreamt that someone had
intruded into our apartment. At the same time, I heard a noise somewhere
in our real-life apartment. I woke up, trying to scream or say something,
but couldn't, which only made me all the more afraid -- until I
realized that a couple of laundry baskets that I had stacked up on the
floor had shifted, probably blown over by the fan.
I can remember having nightmares like that when I was a little kid,
but I haven't in a long time. It was a wierd feeling. Actually,
I hated being a little kid. I didn't know then, because I
was so small, but I was probably clinically neurotic. Or maybe all
kids are like that; I don't know. I guess I'll find out soon enough.
And though I was always happy that I'd never have to live through childhood
again, I guess, indirectly, I will.
Last night, I had a dream that my wife and the Little One were back
from their trip, which only served to make me really miss them again.
I've really been sleeping horribly lately, and I've been watching what
I eat and drink before I go to bed so I'm sure it's not caffeine or anything
like that. The only reason I can think of is that I miss them. Trying
to snuggle with a pillow just doesn't work very well (and kissing it goodnight
is totally out of the question).
This worries me, though. If I go on another interview trip, I'll probably
have the same problem -- again. It's hard enough for me to talk
about all of my good qualities (all one of them), let alone when I've only
had two hours of sleep.
