At the recommendation of Greg, I finally decided to begin reading the Harry Potter series. A long skeptic on fantasy-type books, I've been told repeatedly I'd surely love them. I do recall adoring The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe as a kid. So 13 (!!!) years after the first one in the series was published, I started my journey. And another thing I should have remembered: my brain doesn't handle this stuff so well.
Let me start by saying, I LOVE the Harry Potter series. LOVE IT! I read for hours and hours every night, I lose track of time, I have a hard time waking for work b/c I was up too late reading. And dreaming. No, not dreaming I'm a wizard or riding a broomstick or anything cool like that. Those dreams could be fun and adventurous. Instead, it appears these books are tapping into a part of my brain that was previously dormant. And maybe was better left undisturbed, for strange things lurk there. They've been waiting to come out, and Harry Potter in print has been the long-awaited key.
There have been numerous times I've been on the verge of passing out that I put the bookmark in place shortly after finishing a scary section or narrow escape. I'm awake, yet I walk to the bathroom in an eerie sort of state, looking around to make sure nothing is lurking around the corner nor hiding under the bed. I've ALWAYS had a rule that no part of my body can be hanging off the bed. Where I got this from, i don't know, but it's a known fact that dangling appendages are fair game to be used to pull me UNDER the bed by whatever lives there when I slumber.
So the other night I fell asleep, and when I woke-ish at some odd hour, there on the pillow next to me was an 8" turquoise blue disc. Kind of like the one from the ancient game Simon, except it was all turquoise, and looked even cheaper. I really wanted to touch it, but it was semi-glowing and all. I stared at it, wondering who put it there. I then got all freaked out thinking, "OMG...WHO put it there??????????" jumped out of bed and turned on the lights. Lo and behold, the damn disc had disappeared! I whipped the covers back, looked under the bed, but it was gone. This was about the time I started to fully wake up and hmmm...perhaps it was never there. I turned off the lights, but every few minutes opened my eyes to make sure it hadn't come back. (Not) surprisingly, it never did.
Two nights ago I let the dogs sleep in my bed. I woke up midway through the night and pulled Scooter's floppy body up by me. He fell asleep against me on his back with legs in the air. I must have dozed off and had a dream of sorts that Scooter was dead. I woke and put my hand on his chest, but couldn't feel his heart beat, nor could I feel any respiration. His legs were sticking straight up in the air all stiff and I flipped out. I yelled, "Scooter!!!! Are you alive???" to which he slowly rolled over on his side and I swear I heard him say, "Would you PLEASE shut the f up? I's tryin' to sleep over here." Katja, of course, went about her business of snoozing as if nothing happened.
And there have been numerous accounts of flying shenanigans that result in me standing on my bed, flailing my arms wildly until I come back to reality. But this is better than my old response: pull the covers over my head. Either way, it always ends with me laughing, so that's good anyway. Oh what joy this brought my ex to be woken up repeatedly with this madness. This weirdness ceased a while ago, but it's back as of the start of the Harry Potter series. And these are kids' books, right? So children have no issues reading these things, but an adult can't handle them? Interesting.