Only in my dreams.

I woke up this morning at around six, or a little earlier.  I’m not sure of the exact time because I’d set my phone on the dresser at the foot of my bed last night, so as to keep the radiation a little further away from my head while I lay sleeping.  Having recently watched a thought-provoking documentary about how electromagnetic radiation interferes with, well, All Life, I figured it’s the least I can do for myself since I could not possibly consider actually giving up my mobile phone or wifi, or all the other wonderful forms of electrical pollution that humans have devised, in the pursuit of our rapid demise.

On second thought, I’m almost certain of the time and I’d say it was six on the nose.  (It’s just a feeling I get, can’t really explain it but mostly it turns out to be right.)  For the next hour I lay in bed, mostly awake and musing on love and existence, until my alarm went off, at which point I promptly dismissed it and fell back to sleep.  I’ve begun to wonder if I should just stop using an alarm at all, or employ a different sound every day, because I seem to have a classic conditioned response to its ringing, i.e., when I hear it I don’t want to get up, regardless of how awake I am at the time.  I do often wonder how it would be, and how long it might take, to rediscover our true circadian rhythms, living in unscheduled time…

Anyway, as usual, that last hour of fragmented sleep brought with it a number of telling and lucid dreams, which I shall not detail here except to say I’ve never biked along and down a grassy muddy rocky riverbed in the rain before and that was a pretty fun ride.  Unfortunately, the person I had traveled by bike to see was gone by the time I arrived, off riding some other trail (I found out), but we met later, in the company of some family and friends and their children.  I woke up to a dark brown bat, flying around my living room.  Only in my dreams, of course.  There aren't any bats in my house, far as I know.