Winter dreams

Because I have sleep apnea -- or sleep hypoxia, or whatever, but anyway, problematic sleep -- I wake up a lot during the night, so that I can breathe. This means, I think, that I remember more dreams. 

Last night I had the saddest dream! I dreamed that Rocket Boy and I were getting married. I don't think we were as old as we are now. It could have been 10 years ago, maybe. We were already living together, so we didn't register for anything, though people did give us (odd) presents. No kids, of course. 

We got married in a beautiful old house, like an old Palo Alto house. I was in a bedroom on the first floor, having just washed my hair, when I heard the wedding march starting to play. Oh no, I thought, and opened my door. The house was full of people and the minister (an old Native American man) was starting to speak. I came out to play my part, but then looked down at myself. I was wearing a ratty old t-shirt and a skirt, and my hair was wet. "Give me a minute, I'll be right back," I said, and retreated to the room. 

Frantically, I brushed the water out of my hair (a neat trick) and then tried to find something to wear. I had noticed that Rocket Boy's tie matched the skirt I was wearing (he had on a beautiful suit). So I found a blouse in my closet that also matched -- a sort of red, yellow, and blue plaid on a black background, so garish -- and I put it on instead of the t-shirt. (The photo shows my attempt to paint the fabric from memory.) I knew the colors weren't flattering and the outfit didn't fit well, but I had no time to look for something better. I went out again and we went through the ceremony, even did some dancing. I was happy to be marrying Rocket Boy, but the whole time I felt so bad -- what kind of bride doesn't even have a dress to wear? what kind of bride doesn't fix her hair ahead of time? what kind of bride wears these colors? etc., etc. Nobody said anything about it, but they also didn't say anything complimentary, so I knew they were thinking bad thoughts.

When I woke up -- to catch my breath -- I still felt terrible, but gradually I began to puzzle over the dream. Why would I dream something like that and why would it make me feel so bad?

It was like a school anxiety dream, where you haven't studied and don't know where the classroom is, only this was a wedding anxiety dream. Why would I have that? I got married 21 years ago and have no intention of ever doing it again. I don't have any events coming up that I'm nervous about. I lead a quiet life. Google says that these types of dreams mean we are worried about being judged by an authority figure. Do I even have any authority figures in my life? I think I mostly just judge myself.

Before I went to bed I was thinking about the problem of my clothes, so maybe that was enough to trigger the dream. My clothes are so awful. I wear the same six t-shirts every week, old, raggedy shirts from Kohl's that cost less than $10 each, long ago. On Monday I wear the medium green one, on Tuesday the navy blue one, etc. Today I'm wearing the dark green one (not in the picture).

If the high that day is supposed to be below 35 or so, I'll wear a long-sleeved shirt instead, and if the high is supposed to be above 75 or so I'll wear a tank top. But most of the fall, winter, and spring I wear those same ratty t-shirts. They're very comfortable! But they don't look good, not after all this time, and not originally either, to be honest.

My "winter coat" is a big, shapeless sweater. It's made of acrylic and is extremely warm and comfortable, and it has a hood (though no fasteners). If it's really cold outside I'll just put some layers on underneath. The twins think it makes me look like a homeless person and I think they're right. I've caught a glimpse of myself in mirrors at Target and I do look homeless.

It's funny how easy it is to look homeless. When you're older, that is. Also when you're fat, although that seems wrong. Lots of homeless people are skinny, due to lack of food, etc. But it's that general sense of being in poor condition. Being thin and addicted is one way to give that impression, and being fat and old is another way. There are a lot of old homeless people, or perhaps they just look old after living on the street.

In one of the Zadie Smith books I read this month, On Beauty, there is a character, Kiki, who is in her 50s and very fat. She also sounds beautiful, though the other characters (mostly) just refer to her as fat. In an early scene, Smith describes her getting dressed in a collection of colorful scarves, and later someone she meets tells her she looks like a sunset. "Kiki, you're setting!" I found myself getting jealous of a fictional character. I wanted her clothes.

Maybe I should make another New Year's resolution -- to work on my clothes. I could work on a different aspect of my clothes each month, because they're all a mess -- shoes, socks, underwear, everything. When you get older, if you're not a real clothes horse, i.e., you don't replace your clothes constantly, this can happen. My panties are so old they're shredding.

When I got up this morning, I went online and ordered two shirts. Off eBay. They're used shirts from Kohl's. I'm not sure that's progress -- we'll see when they get here. But if they're nicer (or at least newer) than the shirts I wear every day, that can be my January clothing achievement.

I'm really glad it's almost February. January just about did me in. Only three more days.