sleep-talking, Moses, and the contagious case of the cold medicine dumbs.

WHAT IS REAL AND WHAT ISN'T?

In my cold medicine induced fog, I blathered on to my long-suffering little brother about what I thought was a recent development, my sleep-talking habit, among other things that he found hard to follow. But this is where he stopped me to point out that he had mentioned this phenomenon to me on multiple occasions. I asked him how I reacted. He shrugged and said, "I don't think you really believed me because you didn't react much."

So, like the level-headed adult that I am, I shrieked, "OH MY GOD, WAS I EVEN AWAKE? WHAT IS REALITY?"

I remember from the dream which Aunt Mary Kay answered in the physical realm that I was talking to her in the dream. We were sitting at a candle-lit dinner because the power was still out, having a typical conversation. She asked if I had seen Way while I was in Hyannis. Earlier in the day, I borrowed Joelle and Maura and Kyle's warm shower and booked it over to Barnes and Noble for a quick shift. It all lined up as reality. I recall having the hardest time forming the first word of my answer: nnnn-nnnnnnn-nnnno. It took me three tries to say no, but once I formed the first word, it was natural as any other speech I use: "No, why do you ask?"
"Ask what?"
"If I had seen Way today. I can call him if it's important."
"Caitlyn, what are you talking about?"
"What? you just--"
"Caitlyn, wake up. You're talking in your sleep."
"Aunt Mary Kay, you can't be serious."
"CAITLYN, WAKE UP."

And with that conversation, I found out that I talk in my sleep. I relayed this information to Joshua, focusing on the difficulty I had with forming the first word. I continued to wildly hypothesize, "IS ANYTHING I REMEMBER REAL? WHAT IF EVERY TIME I STUMBLE OVER A WORD, IT'S A DREAM?"

Joshua laughed and said, "That cannot possibly be true. Nothing would ever be real."

Har-har, Joshua. How's this for real? On Saturday, in the thick of my illness, I was feeling dizzy and gross. Don't you worry, I performed excellent hand hygiene and infection control techniques, washing my hands frequently and wiping down the keyboard with alcohol swabs and wearing gloves while making lattes. But even still, I put approximately zero effort into my looks before, during, or after my eight and a half hour shift. Toward the end, the line finally slowed enough to breathe and have conversations with customers -- finally! It makes the day fly by, but if I can't have a good mini-convo with customers, it makes for a sad day and poor story fodder.

One such customer approached me while I was steaming milk for another's drink. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, sporting a red and black Harley Davidson leather jacket and matching headgear that resembled a surgeon's cap. He wore tinted glasses indoors but did not appear unfriendly. He prefaced the conversation with a disclaimer that he had children older than me, and he definitely was not hitting on me. I laughed politely; what else is there to do? He told me that he is a photographer by trade and noticed that I have a "unique beauty about" me and while "all-American looking," I also possess a look he has never seen before. He encouraged me that if I had never considered modeling, I should pursue that venture. And if not, just know that I am a beautiful girl. His wife shook her head and exclaimed, "Moses! Enough!"

He laughed and said, "What? I believe in compliments. I believe in love." He pulled her close to himself, kissed her forehead, and continued, "That's how we've lasted so long, right? We need to give a little love." They bid me adieu, both wishing me luck in whatever I chose to do and left. It was the kindest sentiment I have probably ever heard from a total stranger. Gail tapped my shoulder, snapping me back to reality with the comment, "Did he ask to photograph you?"
"Thanks for wording that in the creepiest way possible, GAIL."

At this point in the story, Joshua interrupted with, "well, WHAT? You could be his muse, his burning bush, if you will. You know, if you actually experienced that and didn't dream it."
 "Joshua, I'm afraid you've succumbed to my contagious case of the cold medicine dumbs. Don't worry. Keith got it, too."

... so moral of the story is, uhm. Spread a little love today?
yeah. do it.