Dream a Dream and See

Last night I had a dream that I was friends with a lot of woodland creatures, including Brer Rabbit from Songs of the South/Splash Mountain. Then there was like an apocalypse or something in the woodland but the woodland was actually a college campus in the middle of a river and I had to run through the woodland-college-campus making sure all the creatures were okay except I couldn't find Brer Rabbit so everyone thought Brer Rabbit was dead but then I found him and hugged him but he wasn't a sassy animated rabbit at all just a big fuzzy real-live bunny.

That isn't the weirdest dream I've ever had. Oh no. Far from it.

I've had a strange dream almost every night of my entire life. I usually remember them. Vividly.

As a child, I had a recurring dream about a man in a poncho who would watch me from outside. He'd be there, and then be gone, and then be there again. My dream-parents would either warn me to stay away from poncho man or poncho man would disappear before they could see him and they would tell me I was imagining things. Neither response was encouraging.

Poncho man never said anything. He never moved except to blink in and out of existence. He just watched.

Here are some other things I've dreamed over the years:

I was the Brave Little Toaster's sidekick. I was animated. I looked awesome.

It was the first day of third grade. I was late and I didn't know anything.

The kittens on the calendar above my bed turned into Ernie and Bert. They talked to me. Then they died.

I was in a play that I'd never rehearsed and I didn't know my lines.

Older Sister was a yellow blanket. I was a red blanket. Older Sister was taken to the dump and I never saw her again.

I was late for my junior high class. I couldn't find my backpack and I was only wearing my underwear.

I folded Little Sister up inside my sunglasses, which killed her.

I was in a play that I had rehearsed and I didn't know my lines.

The Chess Master was a super hero named the Green Arrow and I was a superhero named the Yellow Lemon. Our superhero mode of transportation was bikes.

My second-grade class was having school in my bedroom.

Favorite Cousin died and I had to speak at his funeral. Except he was very much alive but my entire family wanted me to think he was dead.

Porch thought he was a cat.

I was late for my high school class. I'd forgotten to do my homework and I couldn't navigate the school.

I was in a car that started going backwards down a hill.

Baby Sister and I went to a buffet inside a department store. I was irritated because my cup was full of pizza and I didn’t want to have to drink the tomato sauce.

Baby Brother was adopted.

I was in a play that I once had a starring role in, that I knew backwards and forwards and inside out, and I still didn't know my lines.

My parents had chosen my husband for me.

I could fly but only by jumping off the roof of my dollhouse.

My house was being invaded by some creepy invisible creatures. When I tried to get help, I couldn't speak.

I was taking a math class in college but I hadn't attended since day one. An English teacher from my high school and my science teacher from junior high were the professors.

I was a hobbit.

And much, much more.

By the way. Not too long ago, the poncho man made a reappearance in my dreams.

I was, and still am, thoroughly creeped out...