An ex-lover bought my ex-husband's house. And invited me over, to help him do dishes. And I was barefoot.
This didn't really happen, of course, except when I was deep in a rapid-eye-movement slumber. According Maria Konnikova, in the NYTimes (read the complete article here), As your body sleeps, your brain is quite actively playing the part of
mental janitor: It’s clearing out all of the junk that has accumulated
as a result of your daily thinking.
In this particularly unsettling dream/nightmare, I can't help but wonder just what, upstairs, was getting scoured.
And now a glorious dawn sun has penetrated the omnipresent mist; and while I feel illuminated, in a bodily sense, my nighttime subconscious rompings have left my awake self feeling quite less than illuminated, and more than a bit betrayed by the midnight janitors of the brain.
What a provocative post -- it inspires me to take more stock of the janitors in my own brain. I hope your dream hangover dissipates --
ReplyDeleteIndeed, the dream hangover dissipated, only to be replaced by another one where we went to Arkansas and got married. Oy. Veh.
DeleteI love it, "The midnight janitors of the brain." Though unsettling, this dream is helping you along in your process. Emotions know no time, it's all as if it were happening now. Trust it. You're getting clear, Ms. Clear.
ReplyDeleteEgads, Ms. Crowley, I sure hope so!
Deletei love the endless possibilities those two words convey: midnight janitors.
ReplyDeletethe midnight janitors union
the midnight janitors ball
the midnight janitors meatball sandwich
the midnight janitors poetry group....
Susan, this made me laugh! Especially the meatball sandwich. Tee hee. The midnight janitors laundromat. The midnight janitors o.k. corral.
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