Ouch! Doing a belly flop on a waterbed can be just as uncomfortable as doing one in a pool. 

Anyway, I thought I’d get comfy and take the time to write about the horrible nightmare I had. Oh, I had anything but dreams of moving last night. I slept pretty shitty, and I’m surprised I even have this much energy today.

The dream felt so vivid and real that it made me wonder if I slipped into another dimension and saw an alternate version of Tom and me. I’ve always believed the multiverse is more plausible than most other theories. It definitely wasn’t one of those senseless, disjointed dreams we all have.

In the dream, we owned a two-story house and lived somewhere that got a lot of snow—neither of which will ever be the case in reality. I was downstairs, and Tom was upstairs in a room, either watching TV on his computer or fiddling with electronics, as he often does.

I heard a commotion outside. It was early evening, but the streetlights illuminated a car stuck in the snow at the foot of our driveway. A guy in his fifties appeared to own the car and what I assumed were his kids, were trying to help. He saw me through the window, smiled, and called out, “Well, I know someone’s home.”

I smiled back and raised my index finger, signaling him to wait a moment while I unlocked the door. I mentioned noticing his car was stuck and said that ours was in the garage. His expression turned disappointed when I said that, but I quickly clarified that I meant our home garage, not an auto repair shop.

He then mentioned some part of his car that was broken, so I told him to hang on a minute because Tom would know more about that sort of thing. I went to the foot of the stairs and called up to Tom. When he didn’t answer right away, I figured he had his headphones on and that I’d have to go up to get his attention. But a moment later, he responded with an almost irritated “What?” in a tone that clearly said he didn’t appreciate being interrupted.

I told him to come downstairs, and a second later, he was standing beside me. That’s when, without being invited in, the guy stepped into our living room. Then, out of nowhere, a huge knife appeared in one hand and a coil of rope in the other.

Tom just stared at him, dumbfounded, while I could sense that his first thought was, This is what you dragged me downstairs for? 

“But it seemed so real!” I stammered, realizing it was just a ruse. “The whole thing about the car being stuck and the kids trying to help!”

I woke up at that point, and hopefully, if this really happened in another place and time, being two against one meant we saved our asses in the end.

My TMJ has been really bad lately, and I don’t know why. I’ve been doing the exercises and taking ibuprofen, but nothing is helping.