Two nights ago I had a great dream.
A little background info for those who haven’t been listening to me whine, I mean who haven’t followed my medical drama lately. After several surgeries that all seemed to run into complications, I am now recovering well but severely restricted in what I can do. I’m not supposed to bend or twist much and am limited to lifting no more than 5 pounds. This has been going on for nearly a year, with the more extreme restriction in the last 4 1/2 ish months.
So in my dream I was just running all over the city picking up heavy things. Something fell from a crane, and I caught it. Some big thing fell off a truck and was rolling toward some kids, and I ran in and scooped it up. I picked up this huge fish in my arms for some reason. And so on.
Every time I picked something up, expecting praise or thanks, people said to me, “You aren’t supposed to do that.”
Now, Real Me would have heard this and wilted, probably apologised and slunk away, but not Dream Me. Oh no. Dream Me stood up taller, hands on her hips and said, “But I did it anyway, and I’m awesome!” and jogged away to go find something else to pick up.
I wish I was like Dream Me.