July 28, 2000
Making Noise in Bed


So there we were, laying in our big lumpy disheveled bed together at 5:57 a.m. ... feet entwined, ignoring the alarm clock for another minute or two, attempting not to breathe *morning fumes* directly into each others' face ... ... enjoying that brief lovely interlude between dreams and coffee.

"You did something in your sleep last night that I've never heard anyone do before," David said.

Oh god. "I'm sorry," I blushed. (It was the pastrami and avocado sandwich for dinner, wasn't it?)

"No, no, it wasn't anything bad," he assured me. "You just laughed in your sleep."

I did?

"Yeah, you did," he smiled ... clearly charmed by the idea. "In fact, you laughed twice. The first time was more of a 'snort' than a laugh" -- and here he demonstrated an extremely ladylike, extremely dignified piglike noise.

Oh great.

"It was like you'd been caught off guard and you weren't sure if something in your dream was funny or not," he explained. "But the second time there was no doubt about it. You were laughing like crazy."

The truth is I have no memory of any dreams last night, funny or otherwise. Lately, my dreams -- the ones I remember, anyway -- have been extremely dull, functional, "utility dreams"  ...  just me processing and eliminating the accumulated garbage in my head.  Franz yelling at me. Franz throwing stuff at me.  Franz trying to have sex with me; me killing Franz totally dead. (The nocturnal equivalent of a high colonic.) So even if some of last night's *brain noise* was amusing enough to make me laugh out loud, I have no recollection of it.

But being told that I was laughing in my sleep fills me with absurdly-absurd joy,  anyway.


Because it means that my *interior world* is finally catching on to the fact that things in my *exterior world* are pretty darned not-completely-terrible at the moment. (Dare I say it? Things are actually good. But don't tell God I said so: He'll arrange to have me run over by that bus tomorrow.)  At this rate, The Overflowing Toilet Dream should be completely out of rotation by 2001.

For all of my griping about Franz, and about the Tots being 313 Zip Codes away, and about some developments in my life not happening as *quickly* as Instant Gratification Secra might like them to happen (read this: the boobs aren't getting any smaller), I'm really quite ridiculously happy a lot of the time these days. In fact, at moments like the one this morning  --  when The Other 50% of the Population and I are snuggled together in our big lumpy disheveled bed, just the two of us, and the rest of the world could be in flippin' France, eating onions and wearing BEAR-ays for all we care  -- things are as close to perfect as they're ever likely to be.

As a matter of fact, a lot of the good feelings I enjoy these days seem to originate from right there in that big lumpy disheveled bed.

I'm not just talking about sex ... although that's a big part of it. (How "big," you ask? Noneofyourbusiness. Shame on you. But big. OK? Really REALLY big. Humongous, even. He's Italian, forcryingoutloud. Oh. Wait a minute. That's not what you're talking about, is it? Sorry.)

Mostly I'm talking about things like intimacy, and fun, and comfort, and companionship. And feeling safe. And feeling connected to somebody. And trusting the person you're sharing a dust ruffle (bowl of bruschetta/remote control/eleven pillows and a teddy bear) with.  I think it's about feeling glad to fall asleep next to this person every night ... and gladder still to wake up next to them every morning. I spent the last fifteen years of a sixteen year marriage sleeping on the sofa. 

I know whereof I speak.

It's about looking at your bed partner, while they're sleeping next to you, and NOT wishing that they were somebody else, or wishing that YOU were someplace else, or watching to see if they're breathing and feeling vaguely disappointed to discover that they are.

It's about waking up in the middle of the night after a bad dream, and having somebody right there to rub your back and murmur reassuringly and fix you a bowl of cereal and talk to you until you drift off again.

And  ...  it's about having somebody who hears you laughing in your sleep.

Have a lovely weekend, everybody.

so THAT'S what was going on.
[i thought i'd just gotten incredibly *popular* all of a sudden.]

throw a rock