"As dreams are made on"

(Thanks to Shakespeare for the title and thought behind this rambling today.)

As I have related before, I am now masked during sleep...well, one might argue for me being "masked" during my awake hours too...but that is best left for another day.

The Dr. I work with keeps promising me that with my magical air mask...I will sleep better and dream better.  I will be rested and restored to full function the next morning just by strapping on the silicon monster each and every night.  Hah.  That I will become soooo comfortable with the "Mask" that I will be able to get up in the middle of the night, unhook the tubing from the machine, leaving my mask on, and go let my pupper out. (And since he is middle aged...going outside every 5 or 6 hours is good!) Hah. Hah. Claustrophobia...I now understand. I cannot even get through a full night without awakening to my mask breathing merrily on the pillow next to me. Yup.  I am holding the mask in my hand...all intact and buckled...with the machine now breathing for my pillow. 

(And when I related this information to the Dr, she thought perhaps another strap would due the trick.  Only if homicide is now classified as a "trick!" )

So I am having very odd dreams due to this half breathing, half gasping sleep I am now experiencing.  For the first 3 days of the New Year...I was dreaming of a bucolic little farm with goats....and I was making cheese.  Really.  I mean, I get my obsession with cheese...if you know me...you have heard me wax poetic about fromage.  The local cheese mongers know me by name...and they know their till will be wealthier when I walk out their door.  So I get the cheese part of my dream...but the goat and farm aspect?  Not so much.  Farms are hard dirty work...add livestock to the equation and you just put shackles on your life, in addition to the hard work.  I didn't want to dream after 3 nights of goats!

So I tried reading just before I attempted to sleep with my "Zorro!"  A mystery.  So then I dreamed of a murder...that happens...on a goat farm!  Argh!  And the spunky heroine seems to be me with an acquired southern accent.  (Thanks to my co-worker Jules who drawls all day long!) 

The next night I read the new Rick Riordan "Heroes."  All about Roman and Greek gods and goddesses...the whole pantheon....complete with fauns and satyrs...GOATS!  So now, my dreams had talking goats that walked on 2 legs!

So last night I grabbed a guaranteed snoozer of a book...The Illustrated Guide to Victorian Sterling Silver.  I was safe...no goats...no cheese. 

Aaaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhh!

Did you know that the wealthy Victorians had GOATS harnessed to little chariots for their children to ride around in?  And that there were actually sterling silver bells that went on the small harnesses?  Or that the Victorians (I am beginning to dislike these people!) had sterling silver utensils made just to serve and eat certain types of cheeses?  A Stilton scoop, anyone?

So I dreamt of goats wearing leather (hmmmm) with bells attached chasing down rolling wheels of cheese...all at the same bucolic farm.  And how they held the cheese scoops with their hooves...I don't know.

Shakespeare's line "as dreams are made on"...in my case...would be silicon contoured, CPAP infused, click buckled, breathing machine ventilated foundations that somehow inspire (curse) me to have dreams again....but just of the goaty variety!  Wonder if another strap would help?!?!

So when next you see me...just quietly pull the straw from my hair...and accept a gift of farm fresh cheese!  Oh, and watch out for the goats...they like to butt!