I worked my tail off yesterday (I wish, but that's a different story). When I sent my hubby off to work (as usual) and climbed into bed around 11 last night, I was more tired than anyone has a right to be. Without my usual nighttime ritual of listening to music and playing games on my iPod until my eyes wouldn't stay open, I started to drift to sleep almost right away.
In that peaceful, sleepy state when you can feel yourself drifting away, my thoughts wandered to my husband. And then a voice came to me, clear as anything, and said, "He's dead."
Sleep evaporated. I got that horrible, sinking feeling like my entire life had changed--and for a second I believed it.
Fortunately, reason set in quickly and I realized it was just my subconscious being incredibly cruel to me. Incredibly. Cruel.
I did convince myself I was being stupid and went to sleep, but I will admit to breathing a sigh of relief when I heard his voice this morning from the living room.
Sometimes, having an overactive imagination is simply not fun.
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