Shattered Dreams

This morning, I was rudely awakened by my phone ringing. It was the Goblin King. (I find this highly entertaining as I just watched The Labyrinth last night.)

Q. Why didn't I return her call last night?
A. I didn't think she wanted a phone call at 2:30 am.

Q. 2:30?! What were you doing that you didn't get my message until 2:30!?
A. No. I got it much earlier. But I thought it would be quite rude to call back in the middle of dinner with friends when I knew we would talk. We've been best friends since 5th grade. Of course we'll talk.

Q. You sound like I woke you up. Did I wake you up?
A. Yes, yes you did.
Response. Good. I've still got it in me.

She then claimed that by waking me up after only 6.5 hours of sleep, she was considered charming. I tried to convince her that nothing she did this morning was in the definition of charming.

Conversation no one else cares about.

(Sidenote to mention that the italics feature in blogger is ridiculous. I am just glad that I know the teeniest bit of html so that I could actually get this paragraph to not be italicized. )

GK: Well, I'll let you get back to sleep. If you can. [maniacal laughter]
DL: If I can't fall back to sleep, I totally blame you.
GK: I will happily take that blame.
(Yes, she is cruel.)

I shut my phone and attempted to go back to sleep. Tragically, I have a room corner with two windows, one facing east, one facing south. The morning sun is quite bright in my room. Also, I have very light blue walls (which actually look more like primer than paint... I should ask my landlord if I could paint this summer) which lends itself well to making for a bright room. I was too hot and stuffy to pull my denim blanket over my head, so I just closed my eyes and hoped for the best. I never made it to sleep... I was in that half-asleep, half-conscious state where the conscious part is mummified so you know you're awake, but you're fully engulfed in dream anyway. I had the most incredible dream and the conscious part of my brain was thinking, "I have to blog about this when I get up." I even remember composing the first paragraph of this post.

I would love to follow through with that and blog about my dream, but it was interrupted
by a loud pounding on the front door, which just happens to be right next to my bedroom. Frightened out of my bed (I have this talent to answer doors and phones before I fully wake up. I simply can't allow them to go unanswered--my subconscious simply will not allow it), I woke up enough to realize that my pajamas were probably not appropriate to answer the door in. So on my way out of the bedroom, I stopped by my closet and frantically grabbed a tshirt, putting it on as I fled out of my room. I opened the door to find two teenage boys telling me (for the second time in a week!) that they were doing a Young Men's project of airerating (I slaughtered that, I know) lawns, then looked back at the sorry state of our lawn and asked if we'd like ours done. For the second time in a week I informed them that we were renting and didn't make those decisions. (We have someone who supposedly will take care of our lawn again this year. At least, he promised that we would have a lawn this year.) They thanked me, then turned and left.

I went back to bed for the second time this morning (this has to be some sort of sin on a Saturday morning) and officially couldn't fall back to sleep. So I decided to blog! And realized that those silly boys had driven my wonderful dream from my mind. Despite my desperate attempts to remember it, all I can remember is thinking about one of my plants sitting on my dresser. Pretty sure that wasn't it. Sorry folks, no dream for you. If I have to be left disappointed, so should you.

Goblin King, I blame you.