My husband's not a zombie, right?

2:43 AM

I know it was just a crazy, horrible nightmare, but I'm still shaking as I write this.

I stood at the gate outside the 4' chain-link fence surrounding the cemetery. My husband came over the top of the hill inside the cemetery. He looked fine, except for the cast on his left hand.

I heard my cultured British tones calling him to hurry. I was almost dancing with joy, my hands clasping the outside of the wide double gate.

photo courtesy of graur codrin@freedititalphotos.net

Jake reached the gate and began pushing against it. "Sweetheart, just lift the latch," I said.

Instead he stared at me, unblinking, and continued to push the gate. The metal began to buckle outward.

I jerked my hands away as he tore his cast off, his eyes never leaving mine.

My elation melted into horror as the truth struck me:

He's dead, and he wants me dead too.

I turned and ran screaming into the two lane road behind me. An elderly man in a passenger van slowed. I rushed to his side of the vehicle and jerked open the door behind him. I jumped in screaming, "Go, go!"

The old man slowly pressed the accelerator and we inched ahead, but it was too late.

My dead husband jumped onto the passenger side of the van. His hands grasped the luggage rack on top of the vehicle, his legs gained a foothold against its sides.

I screamed again and struggled to shut my door as he crawled over the van's roof in his single-minded pursuit to catch me.

That's when I woke up, my heart pounding so hard it literally reverberated in my ears.

My thoughts jumbled together: Why am I on the sofa? Why did I have a British accent? I'm so glad Jake's not bald. Or dead.

It's now 3:18 AM, and my heart is finally slowing into its normal rhythm.

Photo courtesy of Michal Marcol@freedititalphotos.net

Where did that nightmare come from? I'm blaming it on the cable...even though I know it was my lack of self control. My husband and I stayed up late stuffing ourselves with sugar cookies, taking advantage of our last few days of cable TV.

The dream would have made sense if we had on "The Walking Dead" (which he loves, and I refuse to watch.) But we had kicked back to watch a fun Star Trek movie (the one where all the actors look like they're 17.)

When the movie ended I told my husband, "The replay is starting. I just want to see the beginning of the show, since we came in at the middle." Jake kissed me goodnight and staggered off to bed. Kinda zombie-like.

I hit the TV's sleep timer and settled down to watch young James T. Kirk go from barfly to Starfleet. The next thing I knew was waking up in the dark living room, heart pounding. You know the rest.

Photo courtesy of Anusorn P nachol@freedititalphotos.net

To shake the remnants of that dream out of my head I'm trying this tip from the bible. "Fix your thoughts on what is true and good and right. Think about things that are pure and lovely, and dwell on the fine, good things in others. Think about all you can praise God for and be glad about." Phil 4:8

 

Cause and effect. I knew I should have gone to bed. I knew I shouldn't have been eating late at night.

I'm eager to see what impact cutting the cable will make. I'll keep you up to date.

 

Meanwhile, how are you doing on your comfort zone/bad habit break-out? Any zombie attacks on your good intentions? I'd love to hear.