Crazy dreams

For me, pregnancy is the time of vivid dreams. They are elaborate, with such a long, detailed story arc that I often wake up in the middle of the night still in the dream world. Mind you, it isn't usually a very emotional story, or scary, just detailed.

So I'm now awake at 3am, trying to shake off the huge term paper I was just trying to write on copper. In my dream. And let me tell you, it was so much longer and more detailed than the one my friend had written on calcium (by way of milk and thus milk chocolate which lead to, basically, a report on various chocolate chip cookie recipes). I mean, I had terrestrial and cosmic copper stuff in there, and I wasn't about to take a break with writing until my first, loooooong draft was finished. There were also some photo albums being thrown out and some issue with opening a cellar door. But tonight, it was all about the Cu.

Weird. And pointless. Well, maybe related to something I'm working on, but hard to see the connection.

My mattress in the guest room is propped up with sofa pillows, which means I've not fallen asleep nor woken up to acid reflux for a few days. And when I do wake up in the middle of the night, there is this one, rogue Christmas light ball that hangs down from our balcony to the top corner of the office window, that glows like a stationary full moon up there. If I don't close the metal shutters for the night, there it is, blueish-white, all night long. Not a strong enough light to bother my sleep, and I kind of like it up there. Tonight it is still dripping with rain from a miserable yesterday that was almost cold enough for snow, but actually only cold enough to soak winter coats and land me on the couch, feeling "off" for the afternoon. Pregnancy can be a harsh mistress and there are times when I know I feel wrong, and completely out of the game (the game that is dinnertime, last night), but I couldn't even tell you what is wrong - some chills but not a cold, some reflux maybe or perhaps hunger because I don't know if I'm too full or not full enough, and some exhaustion but not sure if it is hormonal or being sick. Nothing is wrong enough to make me want to go to a hospital, but nothing is right enough to make me want to sit at the dinner table.