Alien Abduction of Some Kind

I woke up exactly one minute before 7:45 AM. My work starts at 7:45. I went through my morning routine as fast as I could. Good thing I live relatively near my office. By the time I dragged my ass to my workplace, I was just 48 minutes late. Just 48 minutes?! Not at all good.

I used to say that it’s better to be absent than to be late. There seems to be more dignity in being absent than in being late, at least in my plane. But I am trying to be the committed person that I ought to be. So I swallowed what is left of my pride and showed up despite my tardiness and all. I promised to do that, you know? Show up.

But as my morning sank in, I realized how odd that my phone wasn’t set whereas its alarm has been programmed to give me a wake up call at 6 AM from Monday to Friday. I don’t really know what happened there. And even if my alarm with its snooze feature wasn’t powerful enough to stir my sleepy head, the bell icon on my phone shouldn’t have disappeared without me deactivating it.

As I pondered on that mini mystery, I started to ask what I did last night. What happened to me? I updated my blog, checked my mail, and emailed some people. Then what? I remember shutting down the PC properly before hopping to bed but when I got up, I noticed my AVR wasn’t turned off. I honestly don’t remember anything after assuming a reclining position yesterday. Hmmm…weird.

Later this day, I had flashbacks of the dream I had last night. I reckon that I was in a hospital then a tube was shoved down my throat which seemed to pass through a hole in my chest. I was walking around with a tube inserted to me in order for me to be able to breathe. Prior to last night, I had a dream that I was having a heart attack. I felt my body growing numb from my fingertips moving to my arms then closing in to my heart. The people around me thought I was kidding. I had to tell them that I was having a stroke of sorts. But my dream didn’t have a nightmare feel to it. It was just is.

I am attributing the heart-related ailments in my dreams with several episodes in my waking world where I feel my heart aching. As I tell some of my colleagues, “masakit ang puso ko.” I meant it literally. (Although I could mean it figuratively, too.) The muscle that pumps my blood throughout my body is in pain from time to time and I haven’t sought medical attention to address it. Maybe I should. One more dream and maybe I will.

That I can explain. The missing link to last night’s memory, though, is still twilight zone-y.