I went to bed last night before my wife did, at sometime after 1:00 am. I woke up thinking that I had heard a loud noise from downstairs. I got up to make sure she was all right, but as I left the bedroom, on my way to the stairs, I encountered a very large piece of machinery that would never have fit there. I realized then that I was still in bed, and that I had been dreaming. I was awake then, or believed that I was awake. I could see the window in front of me, and feel Ella, our cat, still lying between my legs where she likes to sleep, keeping me from turning over. I couldn't hear anything from downstairs, and my wife still wasn't in bed. Remembering the noise, I got up to make sure she was okay. When I walked out of our bedroom, I found myself in the library of the high school that I had graduated from nearly fifty years ago. That woke me up, as I realized that it was just a dream. Again, I was still in bed, and there were the window and Ella. Determined to check on my wife, I got up but, as I approached the door to the bedroom, I found that I couldn't move my feet. Then I realized that I couldn't walk because I was still lying in bed, and that I had been dreaming. Listening carefully, I could hear Michelle's radio or television downstairs. But I thought I could also hear her talking to someone. That was odd because, by then, it was at least 3:00 in the morning. I got up to find that I was in some building that I didn't even recognize, and I seemed to be in a basement, as the stairs led up. Of course, I was still sleeping. This went on for at least ten cycles, although most of them are a blur to me now. Each time, I thought that I was awake, but each time I was still lying in bed sleeping, and Ella wasn't even disturbed by any of it. I did wake up when Michelle finally came to bed because I told her about my dreams. There had been no noise, she said; nor had she been talking to anyone. Thank God, because I certainly wasn't going to be of any help.