Sometimes I wish I knew how to interpret dreams. Last night (or more likely just before I woke up this morning) I was dreaming that I was running through the streets of NYC carrying my bed pillows and wearing pajamas. I ran into The Husband who was on his way to work but had three sleepy children in tow. The children were all making friends with some strange man on the street who was paying attention to them. He was even holding The Baby in his arms.
When I got there The Husband was angry that I was late (where the heck was I?!?) and he had to bring the kids on his commute because I wasn’t home when he left. Also, my kids wanted nothing to do with me. They were content with the man paying attention to them on the street.
What. The. Heck?
Why was I sleeping somewhere in Manhattan? Did I live in Manhattan? Did the kids loving on the stranger have anything to do with my guilt over The Baby playing with some other mom in the baby pool while I chatted on the side yesterday? Is The Husband secretly resentful of his commute? Am I? Does this have anything to do with the fact that every night I plan to run in the morning before The Husband leaves and every morning I sleep through The Husband leaving no run in sight? Is the dirty laundry piling up all around my house finally seeping into my brain?
Maybe I need more sleep. Maybe I need less sleep. Maybe I need more time with my husband. Or kids.
Maybe none of it means anything more than me wishing I could spend the night in NYC.
I guess I’ll never know.
I better check and make sure my pillows are upstairs and not left on 5th Avenue.
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