When I was little I had a very strict morning routine. I would wake up in my wooden boat-bed filled with sunrise enthusiasm and quickly bound into my parents’ room.
“Do you guys want to know what I dreamed last night?”
Jumping straight in between the groggy pair, I would launch into the most interesting, enthralling and captivating tales of total adventure. Dad rarely stayed awake until the end. Mum always ended with, “That’s great darling.”
And she was right. They were totally great.
Now as an adult I am still dreaming. They are my best kept secret. (Except that I tell everyone about them, blog about them, brag about them and now write articles about them).
My dreams have always been pretty cool. I’m sure my parents can testify to that. Usually after ‘morning-story-time’ they went back to sleep themselves, just because they were so jealous of my awesome subconscious. However, these days, my dreams are great for a whole new reason. Nowadays… my dreams are psychic.
I know what you are thinking. Here is another modern aged hippy with crystals around her neck and too many rings claiming to be in touch with supernatural energies. Firstly, yes, I have a crystal around my neck, but it was on sale and compliments my eyes perfectly. Secondly, I have inarguable evidence to prove that my brain is two steps ahead of me at night time. (N.B. This does not include night-times when I am awake and drunk, because in those situations my brain is nowhere to be found at all.)
The other night I had a dream about an old friend of mine. We used to be best friends in boarding school. Our teenage lives were more or less one and the same. However due to the unfortunate process of growing up, making mistakes, picking countries, careers, ethics, boys, men, girls (in her case…), we went our separate ways. So anyway, the other night, after years of not really thinking about this person, I had a vivid dream about her.
In the morning I went to baby Jamberoo class with my cousin. (Essentially, baby Jamberoo is baby aerobics. It’s mildly ridiculous and hugely hilarious.) My cousin is also friends with this girl. Randomly in the middle of jingle-bell rock she said, “Oh did you know Christina is moving back to Sydney?”
I just nodded slowly. Yes. Yes I did. Of course. My brain is obviously brilliant.
So there is Exhibit A. Proof number 1. Certifiable in court. Except that I lied a little bit.
Her name is not Christina.
Moving right along. I also dreamed another little dream the other night and this one had a much bigger impact on my life. I have been seeing a boy recently. His name is not Christina either. It’s Christian. (Can’t believe you’re falling for this again.) We have been spending lots of time together. Having sleepovers, going to Fiji together, drinking cocktails together, fighting a bit, watching New Girl, going shopping etc etc. I have a hammock at his flat. It is also where I sleep even if he is not home. (Not actually in the hammock. In the apartment.) So the other night I got home from work at 2am. I went to Christian’s house and got into bed. He wasn’t home yet. I knew he was out with the boys and didn’t think much of it.
Until I shut my eyes and fell asleep. Then my head got to work!
In my dream he was hiding from me. He was with another girl. He was messy and mumbling and not making sense. His face kept changing. It was always him though, just movements and eyes I didn’t recognise.
In the morning I woke up and he still wasn’t home. I got up and went to work. I was really nervous and it showed on my face. My friends kept consoling me. Don’t be stupid. He is a smitten kitten. He wouldn’t be so dumb. He just has fallen asleep somewhere. My head knew they were probably right. But my magical waters knew better though. (Yes, I always refer to my psychic power as my magical waters. I know it’s gross but it’s what my mum always called it.)
He called at 2pm and apologised. He had had a big night. He was home now. He had taken too many mind-altering substances. He wanted me to come and cuddle him.
So I did.
When I got there he launched into a big story about the big night filled with big idiots. I stared at him.
“Something happened. You did something.”
He got angry and asked why I would think that. He kept talking and talking and talking and talking.
“I know. I know something happened.”
He got frustrated. His eyes kept dodging mine and got really shiny. Tears make the light bounce.
Which is also what I did. I stood up and stood by my magical waters.
He finally admitted it. Something had happened. We ended things and both left a little disappointed. I think he was pretty upset that he was outsmarted by the awesome powers of the greater universe. Through my sadness I was also a bit chuffed. There are going to be girls everyday everywhere in every city who will make eyes at this man. (He’s kind of pretty ol Christian.) But it doesn’t really bother me.
Because my mind is magic.