Nocturnal Affairs

 Case # 1746:

Patient describes waking up every morning with extremely vivid dreams: an appearance on Wheel of Fortune that goes sour, an adventure in Morocco that involves camels, odd footwear and spitting snakes, a sudden growth spurt that turns a girthy 5'9" man into a 7 foot giant and the need to remodel all the doorways in his house. 

Sound familiar?

The patient is me. And it drove me to the interwebs to do my own digital doctoring, as many of us are wont to do. Turns out this phenomena, and make no mistake it is a phenomena, is quite common in the post 2020 era.

Which comes as a relief to my wife who has to listen to my rambling REM accounts of the previous night's hippocampus hiccups.

Turns out the recent spate of vivid dreaming is the result of stress and the yearlong cabin fever. In fact, it is widely viewed as function of the Pandemic.

Fuck You Trump, for the 89,533rd time. 

It is impossible to measure the damage this molt-brain flap dragon has inflicted on this nation. But I'll save that for another blog post. Or, more accurately a thousand more blog postings.

Not to say vivid dreaming does not have its upside as well. 

According to the research, wild imaginative dreams usually occur deep sleep states, which are proven to have beneficial effects. Indeed, I have been feeling more energetic and refreshed these days. I'm not waking up with a general soreness. I no longer feel the need for an afternoon nap. And I'm logging more miles on the Peloton.

All of which comes in handy for the gig I just started (more on that later.)

If there is one loser in all this, it would have to be my wife. Who, for some reason, still indulges me. Though with considerably less verve than in years past.

"...and then this monster, that could walk on water, started chasing me."

"Uh-huh."

"The monster was made of sauerkraut. Sauerkraut."

"I heard you."

"Next thing I know I'm hiding out in some sauna. With Gina Lollabrigidda."

"I'm going upstairs, I gotta put some clothes in the dryer."