This morning I tried to wake myself up from a deep sleep. Instead of actually waking up, I dreamed that I woke up. I found myself in a pink-decorated bedroom, and when I looked out the window I saw a pleasant suburban street. I didn’t see the familiar urban alley that’s outside our bedroom window. That’s when I realized that I was still dreaming. (I’m slow in REM, OK?) With an enormous effort I physically jerked myself awake. I’d left the pink room but I was still groggy and hungover from the dream.
Also making an appearance in an earlier dream last night: Alex Ovechkin looking like a bear about to hibernate. No, the dream didn’t involve romance or horror, just him showing up in this outfit.
Sportress of Blogitude