Only Day 2 and already not sure what to write. Maybe I'll explain why the blog name is it what it is ... apropos, since my subconscious obliged early this morning.

But first, don't worry, this isn't a blog about my dreams, though sometimes it might be. First off, I don't remember most of my dreams ... I usually just hear about them from others. That's because I tend to be what I like to call an "active sleeper." Meaning I don't just dream, I talk, I walk, I generally act out whatever's happening. This often means I wake up more tired than when I went to bed ... so I often feel like I'm sort of drifting through my life, trying to figure out if it's really happening. Thus, sleeptalking ... night and day. It also means that my poor husband -- a light sleeper, god bless him -- is treated to a show most every night. He takes pretty heavy-duty sleeping pills ... no over-the-counter drugs here. I wonder why.

Anyway, I did wake up this morning really upset. I dreamed my best friend -- who lives thousands of miles away, but whom I talk to at least every couple of weeks or so because she's been my best friend since I was, oh, 5 -- was dying. I don't mean she just found out she had some life threatening disease, but that she was actively dying ... in the hospital, gasping for air, but talking to me on the phone, telling me she didn't want to die and me telling her I didn't want her to die either.

So, I woke up and tried to tell husband about it and immediately started crying. Because I'm a loser and knew it was a dream but couldn't shake it. Mind you, this was a little strange on several levels.

First, I'm worried about her. She's pregnant with her third child and I know she loves her children, but I worry that she feels stuck. Her husbands is nice enough, but I don't think he's exactly "present," if you know what I mean. She'll never say it, but I get the feeling she works her ass off -- for pay and at home -- and he doesn't do much to offer support.

Second, she and I recently both lost our grandfathers. Really weird situation. I was in our hometown for my grandfather's funeral. It was really tough because I basically talked to him on the phone while he was taking his last breaths ... he'd had a massive stroke, so I don't know he heard me, but I had the chance to at least let him know it was okay to go. I'm sure I'll write more about him later, but the point here is that I wasn't able to be with him when he died and since we were really close, it was very difficult.

Oddly enough, I was able to see BF's grandfather right before he died. While I was in town, I stopped to see him in the nursing home where he'd recently been transferred after finding out he had rapidly spreading cancer. I grew up taking trips with BF's grandparents, so he was like a second grandfather and I'd recently seen him after he'd had heart surgery ... and seemed to be doing well. Anyway, he was very much out of it this time, obviously in pain, obviously struggling. She was on her way down to see him, but didn't make it. I did. I was there literally within the last few hours before he died ... and I wonder if he didn't think I was her.

So, dreaming about this death thing is a little weird on several levels, so while this blog isn't about dreams -- or death, I hope -- hell, I don't know what it's about -- but this post is, I guess. I still haven't figured out what the hell it all means. And now my laptop battery is dying, so I guess it ends with death. Appropriate, I guess.