Eels, babies, and ice hockey

Apparently my lack of sleep lately is really getting to me - I had the most bizarro dream last night. (Yes, bizarro is a word now, at least in my world.)

In any case, Liz had scheduled one of her hockey practices at this rink on the beach that was really hard to get into. We were having a scrimmage and the coach pulled the other goalie, so there wasn't anyone guarding the net. I got a breakaway with Andrea, made a beautiful pass, and Andrea just stood there an looked at it with an expression on her face that she was so surprised I could do that. Needless to say the pass did not end up producing a goal. Liz (at the other end of the ice) giggled and said, "Hey, it was wrapped in gold with a big red ribbon.)

After that we had a short break at which point I walked out on the beach. There was another friend there, Barb, who was trying to learn to waterski, however she was doing it backwards and there was this large bar contraption that a giant eel (and I mean giant, he was about 8 ft. long and 2 ft. in diameter) had latched onto. She panicked, dropped the bar, so the eel let go and for some reason jumped up on the beach with a second eel of the same size and they burrowed into the sand. Evidently they were waiting to latch onto me, and they were between me and the ice which I needed to get back to for the final period. Whoever I was with made some sort of distraction to the right, so I could run to the left which made the eels hiss in anger.

What does all this mean outside of dreamland? I think it's very simple - I miss hockey, and I've been nursing babies so much in the middle of the night lately that I subconsciously feel like I'm being ambushed by "eels". I sure do love those little "eels" though.