Man in the Moon

Put me in a dark cave for a month, and I can tell you with 99.9999% accuracy when it's a full moon.

We lovely ladies of 600 N. State always got a chuckle over the proven fact that the crazies came out at WallyMart on full moon nights, but I kid you not--the Man in the Moon has a physiological effect on me. (And no, I am not one of the WallyMart full moon crazies.)

Every month, right on schedule, the Man in the Moon generously endows me with the most vivid, lucid, all-out bizarre dreams...and very little restful sleep.

Last night it was all about running. I had a big race, but suddenly couldn't find my shoes. Enter hyperventilating anxiety attack. Then I found them ... in the tidal beds by an island. With big waves and the tide coming in fast.

Mom and our old dog were with me as I frantically pulled them out of the water, only to find that they had already become home to all kinds of sea creatures: barnacles, urchins, mussels, sea snails ....

I pulled and scratched, but I couldn't get those suckers out (it would help if I could ever stop biting my nails, of course). Then Lucky ripped my shoe out of my hand ... and started eating it. I gave up. It was a loss. No shoes, no race, no way to run. 'Til he kindly regurgitated my shoe ... with all sea creatures removed.

Never mind the rest; I don't remember it now anyhow, but I'll be darned if I didn't wake up a full hour before my (real) 6AM alarm so anxious to run now that I had my shoes (!) that I actually DID get out of bed. And run. At 5:30AM. In the dark. (Crazy? Who said crazy?)

T.G.F.M.W.I.O. (Thank goodness full moon week is over). I need some sleep.