Hot Wing Beans

“Wake up,” my wife said to me. It was just past 1 AM.

“Wha?” I asked. It was a legitimate question.

“You were laughing maniacally,” she said. I was glad that she didn’t add the word “again” to that sentence.

“Oh,” I said. “I had a bad dream.” It was true. I had been having a bad dream; one in which there is at least one unexplainable thing and at least one impossible goal. You know how those are. That’s what makes a dream go from vivid or just plain crazy to bad. In my case, I remember that it was crucial I get to the curtains and close them. But I just couldn’t do it, no matter how I tried. And then I began laughing maniacally, ostensibly to scare off the baddies. Or maybe I was the baddie.

It turns out I scared my wife awake. I felt a little bad, mind you. What spouse wants to be awakened by the love of their life in bed next to them, laughing like a super villain? It’s no bueno.

I don’t know if there is cause and effect in dreamland. There are the usual suspects when it comes to bad dreams, i.e. what- did- I- eat- last- night and all that. In my case that would have been the hot wing beans (2 cans of pinto beans, ½ cup of brown sugar, ½ cup of Frank’s Red Hot, and some bacon grease; simmer on low for an hour). But it just as easily could have been the Sleep Notes. The latest entry in that file reads, Someone fell thru the F, which means God knows what. Honestly, why do I bother? Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m sure there’s potential there.

After my evil episode, in that unsettled mood that always follows the rude awakening, I fell back to sleep and dreamt in vivid Technicolor. It wasn’t bad, but it was borderline bad. I don’t remember details, but I do remember it was quite a ride. I’m having friends over for a barbeque today, and I might make the hot wing beans again, just to see if they’re the culprit. Maybe tonight, around 1 AM, the beans will fuel some federal grant money for dream research.

Probably though, they’ll fuel something else.