Dreamscapes

I noticed this morning that my subconscious mind is having a hell of a time with 30 Days of Blogging. Add in "Throwback Thursday" on Facebook, when I have to go through my photo albums and find pictures of myself (an actual challenge since my low self esteem usually keeps me from getting in front of a camera), and we're dredging a lot of stuff out of the memory hole.

My brain has chosen to respond to this with some really vivid dreams about people, places, pets, and things that I haven't seen or spoken to or visited in years. This has been a strange experience.

Two nights ago, I had a dream where Vern (who we also called Moose), a dog that we had for (I think) fourteen years who died before I went to college warned me about talking to ghosts in the hallway. He barked until I left the ghost alone.

At least four times this month I've dreamed about Scruffy, the best dog in the world.

I see faces that don't have names.

I've seen the same faces while flipping through my photo albums. These people must have been important to me once, or they were at least people that I knew, because I took pictures of them. I look at them now and grasp for names. Heather? Is that a Heather? I knew a lot of girls named Heather. Still do. Maybe it was a Courtney?

The other night, I visited our home in Alaska. I can't remember the apartment number, but our zip code was 98733. When we moved away in 1988, the boy who lived next door was named Charley. Or Charlie? He was in my dream. Also, I had rollerskates.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here.

I just know that I've been waking up, every night, at two or three in the morning. It takes me a half hour to an hour to fall back to sleep. When I'm awake, I look at pictures, and try to remember who those people were. Or are.

I wonder how many of them remember me.