My pregnant friend Yasmin emailed me this morning to tell me I was in her dream:
I just woke up and had yet another bizarre dream (I’ve been having many recently). I dreamt that you and I were on some tennis team and you were playing with a paddle instead of a racket and you kept acing your serves. Then it was my turn and you gave me your paddle and it had been broken all around from your strong serves. Suddenly it turned into a Haagen Dazs bar, and I ate it. And then had nothing left to play tennis with.
AWESOME. It makes me want to go play tennis and then eat a bowl of ice cream with thick heavy fudge sauce that’s so thick it slides off to the side in a chewy clump. Ahem. The thing is, when I was pregnant (and didn’t even know I was pregnant at all) I had a dream that I was pregnant with twins. My pregnancy tests kept coming back negative, yet I still had a dream I was “super pregnant.” I love that. I was once in a writing class where a woman in the class kept a dream log, a notebook beside her bed. I convinced myself I’d learn so much more, even see more coming, if I kept a journal of my dreams. I was certain I’d do it, but then I never did. And once you’re awake for the day, you kind of forget it. You squint a little, trying, and you know there is something to remember but you can’t quite remember what that something is. So I’m starting this week. I’m going to go for it. I’ll let you know how it goes. I’m pretty sure last night I had a dream about being divorced or something. I woke up and grabbed Phil to make sure everything was okay, then I went back to sleep. Maybe we’ll play tennis tonight.