Nine Million Rainy Days

Today I'm wondering what it is about rain at night or in the morning that wreaks such havoc with my subconscious, resulting in restless sleep and strange dreams.

In the small hours of this morning I woke and thought I saw some one I used to know, crouched at the foot of the bed, as if looking for something on the floor. I was about to reach for the light to help, when I realized I was in fact peering at the television on my bureau with videotapes stacked in top.

Later, the wind blew in through the open window in my kitchen and sent some random objects rattling to the floor. I flopped over onto my back, with thoughts of 'mmmm, coffee's up' popping into my brain, followed by the vague notion that 'can't be coffee, noone's here, must be the dog.' I sat up in bed, looked down the hall, and again felt rather silly when the dim light revealed a thoroughly empty kitchen.

I'm not even going to discuss the strange dreams I had about work.

I suppose it was a fit ending for what was a random and weird weekend, with activities ranging from movie-renting to baseball watching to late night boat excursions with near strangers.

Time to skip town again, I think. Soon.