It is two in the morning, and I cannot seem to quiet my mind. I untangle myself from my bedsheets, careful not to disturb my 6-year-old, the cat, and the dog (all who are curled around each other in the middle of my bed). Because I struggle with insomnia under normal circumstances, so many additional bodies are not typically allowed.
I head downstairs to dig out the melatonin, desperate for the noise to be silenced – even if only for a few hours – before it is time to face the next day’s challenges in creating and recreating a new normal.
Finally falling into a fitful sleep, my subconscious mind weaves bits and pieces of thought, building a storyline both hauntingly real and slightly ridiculous.
I am standing in a long line. I am weighted down with bags, contents unknown. My body aches. I am so weary. As I reach the final stretch, I realize I am waiting to get on a roller coaster. I quietly protest, as I cannot get onto this ride with all these bags. I am told by some official-looking person that I will have to get out of the queue and head to the back of the line. I have spoken out of turn. I am tearfully moved to the back, the weight of the bags increasing with every step.
I reach the point in the line where I realized I could not get on. The bags I am carrying have somehow multiplied. I have been frantically looking around for someone, ANYONE, who can help. No one makes eye contact. In fact, no one even looks aware of what is happening around them.
As I am, again, being pulled out of line, I find my voice and yell out for help. Suddenly, all becomes silent and still. I see an old man, off to the side of the line. I muster up all that I have left and drag myself over to him.
PLEASE, Sir, HELP ME.
“Oh poor child,” he says. “You don’t need to carry all those things. Put them down. You don’t need to follow the crowd and get on the ride. There is a different way to where you are going right here. All you need to do is open your eyes.
These are hot mess times.
Work from home orders, homeschooling, and 24/7 coverage of an invisible threat is piling on even more expectations to do it all and to keep it all together.
This dream is telling me an important message:
Oh, and wash your hands.