The everyday blog of Richard Bartle.
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10:58am on Sunday, 27th February, 2022:
Anecdote
I awoke from a dream at 6:20 this morning in some considerable pain.
I rarely remember my dreams. When the dream wakes me up I will always remember it; when waking up gives me the dream I may remember it; when I decide to have a dream before I go to bed, I'll always remember it. Otherwise, well I must have dreams, but they don't stay in my memory.
All the dreams I remember are lucid: I know I'm dreaming and I can control what goes on the the dream. Maybe the ones I don't remember are also lucid, but I don't know because (you guessed it) I don't remember them.
So, here's this morning's unbidden dream. Warning: other people's dreams are never as interesting as they are to the other person, so don't expect to be thrilled.
I'm watching a football match as if on TV. I immediately recognise it as the Leeds United versus Tottenham Hotspur game I viewed the highlights of before I went to bed. Leeds are attacking, and a loose ball comes out of the Spurs penalty area towards the right of the pitch. A Leeds player gets there first but a Spurs defender brings him down. It's a free kick.
I decide I want to be part of the action, so in my customary position of attacking midfielder I'm now on the pitch just outside the penalty area to the left. I recognise one of the Leeds players as a schoolfriend, which tips me off that there's something not right here. OK, well if he wants to get on the end of the free kick, I'll let him. I'm now in a similar position on the right of the penalty area. The free kick comes in and a defender heads it down straight to me. I try to chip it back for a forward to head in, but it only goes about four feet. Now I know I'm in trouble. My dream is telling me something.
The ball goes to the feet of a Leeds player — another friend from school. He's completely surprised, as is everyone else. Like me, they were expecting my chip to be inch-perfect. He taps the ball back to me, but this time I take a step forward and kick it with pace.
Only, I don't kick the ball. I kick the radiator next to the bed. I do, however, kick it with pace. This wakes me up.
Ye gods but it hurt! It still does, four and a half hours later, although it's wearing off. I broke the skin on my second toe in two places and am lucky I didn't break a bone, too. The noise was so loud it also woke my wife up.
I'm now left wondering what happened. Did I have an involuntary spasm which gave me the dream? That's what I'd have expected, but a spasm that would involve kicking the radiator that hard seems unlikely. It seems to me more probable that I did have a spasm, but that when my dream tried to explain to me what was going on I gained momentary control of my leg without realising it and hoofed the radiator.
My wife found this wholly amusing when I told her, and made no apology for laughing at it.
No wonder Leeds lost 4-0 if every time someone tried to put in a damned good cross they ended up kicking a radiator.
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Copyright © 2022 Richard Bartle (richard@mud.co.uk).