What Would David Cassidy Do?

How many of you dream at night? All right, good, I'm counting lots of hands. Now, how many of your dreams are relatively straightforward and logical? I see very few hands going down. All right. Now, how many of you have crazily vivid, sensory, action-packed, nonsensical dreams, night, after night, after night? Uh....okay....just a few of us. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about.

That very scientific poll doesn't say much. We all have wacky dreams once in awhile. Some of my friends don't remember dreaming at all, which might have something to do with trying to feed 2.8 kids, 1.4 pets, and .78 husbands (again, very scientific statistical medians) and get out the door on time each morning. But most admit to having some crazy dreams once in awhile. Which helps me to feel a little less....unusual. Because compared to others my dreams have always been a little deviant. I say that because when pulled into a dream conversation, the others always seem to want to offer helpful suggestions for my rehabilitation.

Take this past week. David Cassidy paid a visit to woo me while on a camping trip. We got caught by my Dad heading to first base (you know....), but my Dad seemed to be cool with it once David assured him it was okay because, he's something like, 77 years old now. Even though he looked like young David Cassidy. Then we chopped wood. Last night, I filmed advertising spots for soup, with various celebrities slurping and tangoing because it was SO good. Martha Stewart can gyrate with the best of them. She sticks out because she also sang Handel's Hallelujah Chorus. She cannot sing with the best of them, just so you know. Not long after that I was in a van driven by a childhood friend's Mom when police sirens and a blackout stopped all traffic by the mall. Then we all saw why.....the enormous Mother Ship was hovering over J.C. Penney's and appeared to be ready to suck up the feisty ones. So of course my friend's Mom turned the headlights back on and floored it because, you know, minivans have been known to outrun advanced intergalactic spacecraft. I don't remember what happened when we got to the tunnel but we survived because, not long after, I was borrowing my ex-husband's sister's shampoo to shave my legs. That's just what you do.

I am not making that up. Those are the normal, printable parts from the last few nights. The rest.....

See why I wake up tired sometimes?

There's no point in trying to find meaning or purpose in these things. They're just curious and kind of entertaining. Sometimes I just wish I knew that other people were having similar, consistently whacked-out dream experiences.

So, join the club and share some of your kookiest dreams. Maybe we'll discover that the Mother Ship visits more people than I realized. And David Cassidy? He lives on to woo more unsuspecting women in the throes of REM.

Sleep tight.