When Matt came to bed last night I woke up just enough to ask, “Where’s Mom?”
“What?” he asked, laughing.
“Where’s Mom?” I repeated, getting annoyed. “It’s 11 o’clock and she’s not home yet!”
Thankfully, he oriented me pretty quickly. “She lives in California and you’re in Chicago…”
He could’ve really messed with my head. I’m not sure I’d have been so kind.
I don’t know if the major dream I remember began with that confusing, sleepy conversation, but it seems likely.
I had a long, involved dream in which some kind of new opportunity came up for Matt in San Francisco, where we lived for almost 10 years before moving here in 2006.
In the dream we ultimately realized that there were more opportunities for us there (something we do joke about once in a while, as many interesting things for each of us have surfaced in the Bay Area since we left) and that we needed to move back.
I remember being in tears in my dream, overwhelmed with the idea of leaving my beloved Chicago, but making all sorts of practical decisions (such as deciding we’d go back to renting rather than trying to buy a home) at the same time. It seemed at the time that it was something we had to do and I was resigned to it.
When I woke up, I was shocked to find it was a dream and that I was more than a little sad about that.