Waking Up

For the past several mornings, Isabella has not been what woke me up. It has still been a bit after 4 am, but she was not the cause. She was, however, the reason I got out of bed. Once she realizes that I’m awake, she is relentless. No, what’s been waking me up have been dreams. I rarely remember my dreams. In the 17,052 nights of my life, I probably have woke from 

dreams that I remembered less than two (or three at the most) dozen times. It’s very rare for me. It’s especially rare for this particular type of dream.

So for me to wake from dreams four mornings in a row is a new experience. The thing about these dreams has been that they weren’t normal dreams, not even nightmares, these were all highly erotic dreams. Each one has been distinctly different. I’m not complaining. It’s been a nice way to wake up. Though, I don’t think it’s been the dreams that woke me up, per se, but instead it’s been the morning wood. I don’t know how other guys my age or older are, but waking with an erection is no longer an every morning occurrence like it was ten years ago.

Anyway, like most dreams, the details have sadly become fuzzy. However, I have vague remembrances on the details of these dreams. I might have been able to remember them a bit more clearly if I’d been allowed to take care of my sunrise salute, but Isabella is far too impatient. She wants me to feed her as soon as I wake up. It’s difficult to take care of such hard situations when a cat keeps meowing and getting in the way.

Who knows how long these dreams will last, but I’ll enjoy them while I can.