A sure sign I Blog Too Much

The other night I had a cold. It was a pretty minor thing, but it was coupled with a low-grade fever and I felt a bit ache-y so I decided to take a sleeping pill and go to bed early.

So far so good. Except for one thing. I am a dreamer. I cannot remember more than 15 times in the last couple of years that I have woken up and I was not in the middle of some whacked out dream.

I dream about anything and EVERYTHING. I have been part of an organization to corrupt the world, and other times I have been the world's lone saviour. Complete with automatic weapons and everything.

I also die a lot.

But nothing compares to the other night.

I read the blog Welcome to My Brain. It is a funny, thought provoking well-written journal of a family who have just bought a trailer park so they can do ministry together as a family.

Or so they say. Turns out, they actually had turned it into a survival obstacle course, complete with water torture, dead ends, and Christine yelling at the participants repeatedly. Nice little gems that involve the word loser, quitter, hopeless and the like.

It also turned out to be one of those dreams that I could wake up from, and then go back into. I'd wake up, get myself calmed down, finally fall asleep again, and there would be Christine, leering at me. "You thought you outsmarted me eh?" (She's tricked us all into thinking she's a Southern sweetie, when in fact, she's a Canadian evil genius).

I'm thinking that sleeping pills, cold medicine and an over-active imagination are not a good combination.