Crazy Dreams and Priorities . . .

I had a dream last night that made me feel totally helpless. 
I'm a big dream-rememberer.
That's good and bad.
Depending on the dream.
I'm glad we're not accountable for our dreams. 

I was in college again.  Different apartment, roomates from freshman and sophomore years mixed together.  I was sitting at our kitchen table with two roomates who, like me, are presently married with children.  I was trying to get them to agree with me that life isn't the same without our kids while going to college (heh, obviously).  I didn't hear my kids giggling and I was concerned.  Where were they?  It was like this strange alternate reality--college life and family life meshed together--weird.  I wanted to find them.  Why weren't my roomates as concerned as I was?  Futility is an awful feeling. 

And then, you know how you always jump to another part of your dream without transitions?  Well, I was looking everywhere for a great pair of shoes to match my outfit.  I kept finding my roomate's shoes, and they were so cute, but I couldn't find mine.  I couldn't just wear her shoes without asking.  Normally, I'm sure this wouldn't be an issue, but in my dreams borrowing shoes was off limits, I could feel it.  I wanted my cute shoes (if we're being honest, I don't think I had any cute shoes in college, I was pretty conservative, functional).   And they were gone, too, like my kiddos.  Panic.

So, what do you do when you can't find your giggling children OR a pair of really cute shoes?
You wake up.
And that's just what I did.

I'm glad I've got my priorities straight:
Kids THEN shoes.

p.s. I finished My Name Is Mary Sutter last night, my civil war book.  Loved it.  Unforgettable (to me).