More often than not, sleep eludes me.
I drift off to sleep with no problem. Some nights, I barely say my last prayer before I fall asleep. But then the wee hours arrive. I sit up at 12:30, bleary eyed and groggy, glancing at the clock before settling back in. I know that I have five more hours of sleep...
But then it's three or four in the morning, and suddenly, I'm wide awake. Alert. Ready to get up. I resist it; it's too early and I want more sleep. But my brain resists. It starts to think, sometimes about the larger aspects of life, but more often than not, it thinks about inconsequential things. I can't shut it off for a while. When I do, my alarm goes off and I have to wake up, start my daily routine with the zeal and zest of a zombie.
Some nights, however, are like last night. I woke up once to roll over and readjust my pillows. That was it. I was still sleeping when my alarm went off. I'd say it was nice, but my body needed to keep sleeping.
While I slept, I dreamed. I'm a very vivid dreamer, and last night was no exception. But last night's dream was far too familiar.
I have dreams with recurring themes. I can't say they are recurring dreams because that, to me, denotes a rerun of a dream that you've had before. No, these have a recurring theme, the same idea just played out in a different way.
I dream of bathrooms. The bathroom is never the same. The events are largely different. But in each of the dreams, the following occurs:
- The bathroom's conditions are abhorrent. Utterly disgusting. As I go from stall to stall, I can't find one that's even close to fit for use.
- There's no privacy. Stall doors do not exist. Locks don't work. People always come in while I'm in the midst of what one does while in bathrooms.
Last night, I dreamed of a single bathroom. I went in and locked the door behind me. There was a sink, a toilet in the corner, and a long shower stall across from them. The sink and toilet were fine. Fairly clean for a public restroom. As I sat on the toilet though, I was appalled at the condition of the shower: shredded curtain, horrendously dirty tiles, toilet paper clogging the drain.
As I did my business, people began to enter. A man and several women. I was scolded for not locking the door though I remember doing it. The man left, razzed by the women for being in the wrong restroom. As I tried to pull my pants up, the door opened and more men entered. I left, amused and flustered.
Paging Dr. Freud...