Unrestful Sleep

Last night I had an overnighter, which is not an unusual thing for me on a Friday night. No more than fifteen minutes after we'd finished our fun and games and had settled down to go to sleep for the night than furious knocking came at my front door. I don't normally answer the door when I've got someone there in the bed with me, but as it was the middle of the night, I thought I'd better go see what the hell it was.

I was surprised and extremely pissed to find it was the moron who cuts my grass. What did he want in the middle of the night you might ask? He'd dragged along some of his stuff to sell to me for drug money. He's tried this shit before and I've always refused to help him, but apparently he's not getting the idea.

I ended up shutting the door in his face and returning to bed. I'm getting to the point that if he tries this shit again, I'm going to have to make my point with him more forcefully.

After that annoyance, it took me quite awhile to get to sleep, and when I did sleep, I was running all night in my dreams. In one dream, I'm at this place where they have several cats in a cage; too many for the cats to be comfortable. Though I hadn't planned on getting another cat, I ended up taking one home; one with similar markings to my tom, but with long hair and a somewhat different color distribution.

Just before I woke up, I was delivering pizzas in a neighborhood from hell. It was a motley collection of houses laid out in a haphazard fashion with tall sand dunes all around in random spots. There were dirt roads in between some dunes leading to more houses in back, hidden from the paved road. I was looking for a house number sixteen, but the numbering system on the street was all screwed up and I was having a hard time finding the house.

Finally, I located number fourteen, so I went to the next house in line, figuring it had to be sixteen, though the house had no numbers, nor did the corresponding mailbox. Of course, when I knocked on the door, it was the wrong house, with the people telling me that their house was fourteen, too.

I looked at the house directly across the street, which was numbered 202. Then I looked at the next house down on the same side of the street as the two number fourteens. I saw a number on it, 101962. I saw a dirt path leading between two dunes behind 101962 and starting walking back there through the ruts. A woman pops out of 101962 and says, "Here it is!", in a tone of voice that implied I was a total moron for not walking right up to it. I told her that the 101962 on her front door had thrown me off and she said that these were the numbers from her last two houses, 101 and 962. Of course! How silly of me not to know that 101962 is exactly the same thing as 16!

I guess it's not surprising that I woke up tired today.