Last night I woke at 4 overheated. This is a fairly unexpected development in January. I got back to sleep fairly quickly, but had an unprecedentedly bad dream. I like to think that it had something to do with a certain lack of comfort.
It was such a bad dream that names are being expunged to protect the innocent. I dreamed that I was back with an ex-girlfriend. That isn't the bad part; the bad part is that we had murdered somebody. Apparently, we were just curious. There was a great deal of anguish about whether and when to turn ourselves in. I think in the end, we decided not to, but to wish the police luck. I had somehow gotten rid of the victim's body and car, but couldn't remember how. At the end of the dream, a (fictitious) friend of ours who must have employed the victim told us that the car had mysteriously turned up in New Orleans with the victim's possessions inside. This woke me up; presumably, it meant that we were going to be caught.
Now what I found interesting was my reaction. As so often, I found that for a while after I woke up, I took the dream as if it were both totally real and totally normal. It was as if I were thinking, "I don't remember us murdering anybody," though if I actually verbalized the thought of course, I would have stopped myself. ("WAIT a minute!") Anyway, for the record, no murders in my past, unless you count trying to hit high notes.
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