I’ll See You in my Dreams.

“Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream..”

Bum bum bum bum.

“Make him the cutest that I’ve ever seen..”

Bum bum bum bum.

“Give him two lips, like roses and clover. And tell him that his lonesome nights are over..”

Mr. Sandman did indeed come through the other night, per my lonesome request.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a dream in which my man made an appearance, but a nightmare.

I really don’t know how many more midnight frights this girl can take!

So I’m in bed, dreaming, or I guess I should say “nightmare-ing”, and all of a sudden, I wake up.

To my absolute horror, I see, clear as day, what appears to be a man crouching with his hands outstretched, creeping across my closet.

Eyes widening, my heart begins the most intense pounding, and I literally feel like it’s about to leap out of my chest. As the realization settles in that I have someone in my house, I wait in frozen fear for this perpetrator to pop out from behind my bed.

Unable to stand the intensity of waiting, I manage to turn on my lamp. As soon as the room floods with light, I pry myself from my soaking sheets to face my terror.

Well of course there’s no one there.

And there never was.

As I make the rounds in each corner of the house, I begin to cry, scared of myself and my wild imagination for playing such cruel games on me.

I can’t say I have ever felt as petrified and terrified in my life and even though it wasn’t real, the fact that my mind tricked my body into seeing, believing, and reacting the way that it did and making my worst nightmare feel so real scared the sweat out of me.

So of course I want to know the possible causes.

We can rule out that there wasn’t actually anyone in my room; well, besides Guji.

Did I imagine this because I watch way too much Dateline which has caused me to develop a fear of being attacked in my home? Maybe.

Did I imagine this because I have a wicked and wild imagination? Could be.

Or did I just have a nightmare that crossed over into reality when I woke suddenly? Likely the cause.

Whatever the reason, when I had to get back into bed that night, I had to calm myself down. I tried texting others, I contemplated calling my mom, even briefly thought about making a call to the police to ensure that there really wasn’t a creeper looming in the shadows, but at the end of the night, I alone had to overcome my fear.

And that’s a powerful moment for me.

Not just learning how to calm myself down, but realizing that I don’t need someone else to reassure me I’m okay.

Fear could run my life, if I let it. Obviously, there’s something deep within me, this fear of being broken into, that triggers a response, and I believe the only way to diminish that fear is to learn how to cope with it, which is what I proudly did. Resisting the urge to reach out to others to help me calm down, I learned how to rely on myself to get through it, reinforcing my confidence and self esteem.

Sure, it would’ve been nice to snuggle back to bed with the big burly man of my dreams to protect me, but at the end of the night, I can do just as good a job.

So, with the cat once again lounging on my chest, and my nightlight turned on to help protect me, I was able to fall back asleep again.

Now Mr. Sandman, let’s try this again…

Looking S-MUG.

Does my outfit match my mug?

Maybe. Maybe.

Are we surprised though?

Our story begins at Train Stop Market. So there I was, Friday afternoon, shopping at the Market, which has become the epitome of what summer is all about.

Sunshine, shopping, supporting small, everyone in good spirits and spending it all together in the great outdoors.

It was here that I found this sweet mug.

So I took it home (amongst other things, including a salmon bra- you’re not Alaskan until you own one!) and it wound up coming in handy when I was trying to find something to wear.

If you don’t know me by now, I have a TON of clothes, yet for some reason, I still struggle with finding the right outfit. Well this time, as I was perusing my racks (yes, racks) I remembered this mug I had bought and thought “oooo I like those mug colors.”

I go and grab it and sure enough, the result was an outfit that was fully inspired by the colors of my new mug.

So Sunday rolls around and of course everyone is complimenting my look, to which I very quickly pull out my mug to show them just how cute my outfit really is.

Yeah, I was feeling proud of this look, one might say I was looking a little sMUG.

Get it? Get it?

As the day goes by, I start thinking, remembering, recalling what it is that makes me dress the way I do.

It’s the expression of self, and being inspired by something as seemingly insignificant as a mug. And it’s not just a pattern in how I dress, but in how I write, and in how I live.

I believe “everything is copy” (thank you, Nora Ephron) and that means that everything has a story worth being told. With that comes an observance and an appreciation of things that others glaze over. I am inspired by the seemingly insignificant, the little, and the overlooked because I find that those are the things that make me see, feel, and understand myself and the world better. My life becomes richer and happier the more I learn to appreciate all the little things in life.

Here’s a mug: a piece of pottery that probably just stood pretty on a shelf for months and look at the impact it had on me because I saw it as more than just an ordinary mug.

It’s about living with gratitude, which helps me see the possibilities of what’s there instead of the lack of what isn’t.

So yeah, am I a little bougie for walking around proudly holding my little mug and looking as matching as could be? Maybe. Maybe.

Again, are we surprised?