Last night Satan and I fought an epic battle in the belfry of a beautiful little church-turned-apartment. Satan was always Satan, but sometimes I was me and sometimes I was Jennifer Anniston. Courtney Cox made brief appearances too. In the end, God and I won the war.
I tell you, these nightmares are wearing me right out.
I woke up in a panic, only mildly comforted by the fact that Lucy and I were somehow wound together in sleep. I say mildly comforted because it's quite amazing how satanic a cat can look when you've just spent the better part of your sleep locked in a vicious battle for your eternal soul.
She finally started purring, which reassured me that she wasn't one of Satan's minions.
I should have known really. She's not nearly smart enough to be anyone's minion, let alone the prince of darkness'.
The dream has hung with me all day. There was more to it - there was a pregnancy or a baby, or maybe even Thomas - but the worst part of it was the horrible fight at the end.
It was some extremely scary stuff. Although beautifully shot - I should be a cinematographer, I think.
The end of the dream was actually quite touching. A pure white dove flew up the spiral staircase, past me and into the rafters, which is how I knew we'd won, God and I. A very tiny little dove appeared nesting in my hands, and I carried him up the stairs and released him to the rafters and the larger dove waiting for him above.
Hmmm. Maybe the little dove was Thomas and the larger dove was God?
Or maybe they were both just pigeons. I don't know anymore. I just know I need some restful sleep pretty soon. The past week hasn't been too bad - but last night was a doozy.
Maybe I should stop eating caramel and chocolate chip rice cakes before bed...