On Tuesday night, before going to bed, I got this incredible surge of hunger. I try not to eat past 7:00 pm, because I don't like to sleep knowing there's mildly-digested food in my tummy...gross, right? However, I gave into the hunger and sliced up a rather humungous orange.
The result?
-I was up until 2:00 a.m.
-My dreams were crazy-scary
-I was slap-happy most of the day on Wednesday
My dream that night could have been an actual horror movie, circa 1979. It took place in a large dirty city (Detroit?), and the plot focused on a serial killer who slashed the throats of college-aged women who had Dorothy Hamill's hairstyle and all called their grandmothers "Grassy". And yes, I've tried to analyze my dream to no avail - Grassy? Whatever.
It was very vivid, and the plot was complex - the vice squad replaced a detective on the case (who OD'd) by an younger-looking couple who pretended to be college students in order to trap the killer.
Unfortunately, I didn't get to finish the dream, so I don't know the end. Thinking about having an orange late Friday night before I turn in to see if I can pick up where I left off. Doubtful, but worth a try.
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