spider dreams.
So I have these things I call "spider dreams," where I have a dream that the bed or the wall or the pillow is covered in thousands of tiny swarming spiders (or occasionally biting ants) and I wake up from a sleep in a total panic. After years of sleeping in the same bed as Jon, I've gotten marginally better about the panic, climbing out of bed carefully and running my hands over the surface in question as opposed to the previous response, springing out of bed gibbering and yelling and then turning the light on and freaking out in the general direction of my recently-sleeping bedmate. I blame this phenomenon partly on the summer of the roaches, where I regularly woke up to see Mr. Roach inspecting my bedside table or just staring me down from the chair-rail above my bed. It's also a stress thing, as Jessie pointed out to me a while back (Maybe I should sleep on the couch during the two weeks leading up to my general exam). And apparently, it's not uncommon.
I just thought to myself, "Wow, I haven't had a spider dream in months! And it's been a somewhat stressful quarter."
This was immediately followed by, "And now I jinxed myself."
I'm tempted to bet somebody dollars to donuts that I'll have one tonight, but (1) I doubt any of you would take me up on it and, (2) if I'm right, Jon will kill me for encouraging it. That is, assuming that he has the energy to kill me at four in the morning immediately after being roused from a sound sleep.
I just thought to myself, "Wow, I haven't had a spider dream in months! And it's been a somewhat stressful quarter."
This was immediately followed by, "And now I jinxed myself."
I'm tempted to bet somebody dollars to donuts that I'll have one tonight, but (1) I doubt any of you would take me up on it and, (2) if I'm right, Jon will kill me for encouraging it. That is, assuming that he has the energy to kill me at four in the morning immediately after being roused from a sound sleep.