I’ve been sick.
This should not be a shock to anyone who reads this blog with any regularity. What is shocking is that I have gone more than a few months without falling ill.
This time, the timing could not have been worse. We were supposed to hold a garage sale and our dinner group was congregating at my friend Lisa’s house for grilled steak. Out of sympathy, she brought me flowers because she knew how disappointed I was to stay home. It was such a thoughtful gesture.
Though I would have been equally as excited if she’d dropped off a big slab of beef.
I have a 2-hour window while both kids are in school and I took full advantage by sleeping. On Friday, I doped myself up on cold medication, grabbed Remy (the cat) and nestled into my cave. My slumbers started blissfully: I was at the Magellan Inn, a charming beach-side resort in Costa Rica where Jamie and I spent out honeymoon. I was momentarily whisked away by vacated beaches, white sand and big surf.
Until a big storm blew in. As it turns out, we were actually sleeping on a submarine and I was somehow sitting in the driver’s seat. It was filled to capacity with people and I was the one who needed to save us. In vain, I tried to steer but we flipped over from the monster waves.
Then I was being crushed.
Suffocated.
Asphyxiated.
I gasped for air and realized that Hurley from ABC’s LOST was in the passenger seat and was using me as a human trash compactor.
Struggling for my final moment of life, I flung him off me, flipped the submarine to safety and woke up.
And realized Remy was lying on my chest.
We don’t call him the “Fat Kitty” for nothing.
When have your dreams imitated reality? What’re you dreaming about these days?
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 