I don’t usually remember my dreams. I wish that was the case for last night. In the retelling, the dream does not seem all that terrifying, but my heart still races a little bit thinking about it and the terror that felt so real while I was asleep.
It was the usual bizarre nonsensical scenario – I dreamt* that Jeremy and I were going to bed. There was some kerfuffle about which side of the bed we belonged on (when sleeping solo we both sleep on the same side of the bed, but I usually shift over if he’s staying the night) and I’m not really clear on the details, but some authority figure had demanded that we switch sides. I remember laying in bed (in the dream) and looking up at a window that was on the side of the bed and seeing two men in suits and sunglasses a la Men In Black standing outside of the window looking in. The window was a basement style window that opened out to have an angled opening if it was open, which it was in the dream. One of the suited up men started to reach into the window and he had these weird exceptionally long arms that were able to reach all the way in and it was when he touched me with his freakish noodle arms that I remember screaming, “Oh my god!” and that was when I woke up to Jeremy wrapping me in his arms and shushing me, trying to calm me down as I wasn’t just shrieking in my dream, but out loud.
Gah. Now I’m all kerfuffled and out of sorts and it was just a silly dream.
*Dreamt is totally a word, screw you spellcheck. Just because it’s old English, does not mean I can’t still use it. Sounds so much better than dreamed, grumble grumble grumble.