I went to bed at 11:00 and got up at 8:00 … and I’m exhausted.  The Polar sleep app on my watch says I slept eight hours.  Huh?  Impossible.

Somebody was talking to me all night.  Or were they moaning?  Were my neighbours awake at 3:00 or did my mind make all this up?

The dreams came hard and fast.  At one point, I was surrounded by people wearing grotesque masks.  They were howling at me.  It felt like the painting you see – The Scream by Edvard Munch.  Terrifying.

It felt like rapid-fire images all night.  Such as an orchestra stage with no musicians, just upside down music stands.  I snapped awake at least ten times, often to pee, but always to startle.

I was lost in an amusement park, rushing up to people asking “How do I get to the Prince of Wales Hotel!?”  No one knew.  I worked at the PW in the Canadian Rockies for five summers as a young man.

There was a sickening all through the wee hours, and a slow dying.  Yuck.

Thank God for the morning sun, for a warm shower, for the pumpkin spice latté I’m now sipping in Izy Coffee.

***

And yet my head keeps spinning

I feel the call of my bed

Say yes, Bruce