December 2: Aurora Borealis McVickerus II
“And as I was sitting in my dream hotel room a woman I did not know walked in and started to get things down off of a shelf. When I told her she was in the wrong room, she looked at me and said, “you are too.” I looked around and noticed she was right, so I woke up.”
Last December 2, I woke at 3:40AM because of a dream of traveling to see the Northern Lights. In the dream, I only made it to the hotel and, apparently, the wrong hotel. So I left.
This December 2, I woke at 4:30AM (really) because of a minor surgical procedure I scheduled that involved my going to the hospital and then going under anesthesia. I kind of left then, too.
Some people say they have wonderful sleeps under anesthesia—they relax, they dream, they awake alert. But I do not say that. When I am put under, it doesn’t feel like sleep, it feels like the void, like reading a book with a random three pages written in black ink on black paper. When I wake, when the words are visible again, the story resumes, but I have lost the plot.
To wit, I am home, yet everything feels slightly unfamiliar, a few seconds or millimeters or ounces out of true.
Last December 2, the Christmas light-adorned tomato cages of the Aurora Borealis McVickerus shining through my office window lured me out of bed with secret anticipation. (I even have color-coordinated coffee mug I use only when watching these lights.)
This December 2, the Aurora Borealis McVickerus is not up yet. And without them, I’m in the void, in the darkness of this December’s room until I can see the words again.
If you would like to read about last year’s Aurora, click here.
