Yesterday was fabulous, it was sunny but not sweaty, there was a lovely breeze and you could see for miles. It was exactly the perfect day to be given a random holiday on. Which I was. (HURRAY!) I spent the morning swimming and cycling; the countryside was beautiful, the last of the farmers are cutting their rice and the rest of the paddies are in shooks or stacks and the mountains which encircle the valley were visible in great detail, the green and forested and I’m sure theres a little snow on one of them. Even Fuji wasn’t hiding! It was the most beautiful day.
Perfect for washing and baking which I did in the afternoon; ooh I’m all domesticated! I’m practicing for the Town Festival on Sunday (I’m running a British stall!) The Yellow Dart’s recipe for Yorkshires came out perfect! They rose and looked like the picture on Aunt Bessies and everything!
My Adult Class guinea pigs loved everything; even the scones which didn’t rise propely due to me only having access to plain flower and baking soda and completely cocking up the baking powder. It was a fantastic day.
And then yesterday night came and I couldn’t get to sleep.
See the night before I’d had one of those dreams.
One of those absolutely perfect dreams where everything is amazing and it deletes intervening years and quarrels and anything else life has thrownup. One of those dreams where you wake up gently into a doze and still think reality is like the dream, and you’re just waking up into what you dreamed. And then you open your eyes and somethings horribly, horribly wrong: you’re not where you remember being. You’re not where you should be and theres no one to tell you that it was a dream, until those agonising few minutes have passed (and it was only a few minutes this time, I have gone a whole ten before now) and you realise with that sickening, heart wrenching thud that it was only a dream. But you can’t remember why this is ok, everything was perfect in the dream ergo everything is not good here, you just can’t remember quite what makes things good here.
I hated it so much that I wouldn’t let myself write it in my dream book. I’m trying something to attempt to be able to dream lucidly so that when the nightmares come I can tell them to piss off. SO far its just making my dreams more vivid.
Of course the day was beautiful and I forgot about the dream by the time I went to bed, only my body and mind conspired against me. My first night of insomnia in a few years now. When I realised what it was; I didn’t want to have the dream again then I stopped trying to get to sleep in the hopes that I would get tired. I read three books and watched the sunrise. Then I went to work to be GENKI with Elementary school pupils. I’ve been totally wired all day.
Honestly I used to be like this after a week on ProPlus and no sleep now it’s a night and no caffeine. I feel jazzed to the nines. It was such a beautiful day yesterday.