I dreamed a dream

I woke up at about 4:30 this morning with just one thought: "Hey!  I don't even HAVE a basement!"  This was such an enormous comfort that I fell immediately back to sleep for an hour or so; quite unusual, because a 4:30 wake-up usually means that I'm up for the day.

Some backtracking: I had awakened from a dreadfully vivid and realistic dream about a waterbug infestation in my basement.  They were everywhere, and I was paralyzed by indecision about what to do about them.  Panic and just refuse to ever enter the basement again? No, because in this dream, the kitchen happened to be in the (nonexistent) basement (and this made the infestation that much more horrible.)  Call an exterminator? Well yes, because I wanted to be rid of the bugs, but no, because I was afraid of the pesticides and I was embarrassed to invite an exterminator into my squalid, crawling home.  So I spent the entire dream entering the basement over and over, closing my eyes and turning on the light, and then opening my eyes always a moment too early to avoid the sight of the bugs scurrying for the cover of darkness.

(I realize now that this is at least my third post about bugs or insects, and readers might make the mistaken assumption that I have a particular interest in or particular fear of bugs.  Neither is true.  I have no interest in any bug or insect except to react as necessary to get them out of my way; and although I'm certainly not fond of any form of insect or bug life, I'm also not really that afraid of them.  I have more weird phobias than the DSM-IV even knows about, but I'm pretty bug-neutral.)

So, back to the dream.  My house, as I mentioned, was both vermin-infested and utterly wretched, to the point at which I'd have been ashamed to have anyone see it.  This is far from the case in actual real life.  My house is simple and not especially luxurious, but it's quite clean and pleasant.   Anyone's welcome to visit, any time.  Mi casa es su casa.  I also don't have any particular fear of or aversion to pesticides (although the smell of Raid nauseates me) so I don't know why my dreaming self was so afraid of the exterminator.

One thing about the person in the dream that I did recognize, all too clearly, was her panicked inability to make a decision and take action. I am often paralyzed by indecision about the most minor everyday things.  Decisions about what to wear, what to cook for dinner, what to do during the thirty minutes before I have to pick a kid up from school or an activity can and often do send me into a hair-pulling tailspin of anxiety.

Anyway, I woke up and have had a fairly productive day, more so than average.  I'm even less interested in dream analysis than I am in bugs, but perhaps that one served as a cautionary tale because I dithered a bit less than I usually do today.  Even a waterbug has its place, and they're welcome to settle in my imaginary basement.  Mi casa es su casa.