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new raspberry; »HATES technological I am sick to death of erectile dysfunction, pass the tampons please »LAYOUT
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What the Fuck? What the Fuck? I know I must dream. I rarely remember them—either vaguely or in anything approaching detail. Apparently my dreams are so malignant that my conscious mind refuses to allow me access to the content or so benign as to be immediately forgettable. So it was quite bizarre to awaken this morning with rich details of my dream cavorting in my waking mind. So bizarre it left me saying, “What the fuck does that mean?” Ms., aka my better half, and I are shopping at a mall. It’s not our local mall. This mall has mature trees, hills and distinctly separated parking areas. Our mall is flat, trees are less than 10 years old and it’s an island in the middle of a sea of asphalt. We are shopping for, of all things, shoes. Neither of us experiences a lack of shoes. For crying out loud, we make Imelda look like a pauper! Ms., aka my better half, has selected a pair of shoes that can best be described as clown shoes. Brightly colored and a good six inches longer than her tiny feet actually are. I, who always has cold extremities, am trying on heated tennis shoes. Ms., aka my better half, pays for her shoes and has to run so she leaves me her credit card1 for when I am ready to make my purchase. While I am making my purchase, a shoe store employee that I’ll call Cell Phone Asshole attempts to sell me some product not at all associated with the store I am shopping at. I decline and instead of completing my sale, he proceeds to make calls on his cell phone. When I protest this, he screams at me and when I protest further, he gives me a finger-flick noogie right in the middle of my forehead. (Editor’s note: I can’t fucking believe I am letting someone treat me like this in my own fucking dream!) I complain to the store manager who takes me, along with Cell Phone Asshole, to the office to fill out a complaint. While I am describing the incidents to the manager, I can see Cell Phone Asshole is going through some sort of Total Recall2 facial special effects. He appears to be morphing into something other than human. Something I no longer desire to be in the same room with, let alone complaining about. I leave. As I am walking down the mall corridor, this Babe comes flying out of an intersecting hallway and runs smack into me. As we collide, she is muttering the phrase, “Why do all the women in this town have to be so straight?” (Editor’s note: Juli dream-smirks a big-ass smirk.) The Babe is on her way to a smoke break3. I tell her she’s found one of the crooked women and we wander the mall parking lot. As we stroll with my arm wrapped across her shoulder, she sucks on my tit. We get evil looks from passers-by. Caravans of red-necks verbally harass us, even an Amish family! One of the Amish gets hurt when a wooden piece of their wagon breaks. I pull out splinters and bandage the wound. Amish family goes away happy. I escort the Babe back to the restaurant4 where she works but she ends up following me back out to the parking lot where I have left my shopping bag and personal items which have been ransacked. My camera is gone5, my purchases shredded and I’m pretty sure someone is having a very good time courtesy of Ms., aka my better half’s, American Express card6. It is at the point where I am flagging down Mall Security and the Babe is telling me it’s probably Mall Security that’s done this that I awaken. Now I know nothing about dream interpretation. I have been under quite a bit of stress with the situation with The Kid. I just had my 8th sobriety birthday, which you think would be a happy occasion—and don’t get me wrong, it is—but it’s also stressful. The primary stressor right now is quitting smoking. Knowing all this, the things I think I can explain from the dream are footnoted (in case you hadn’t noticed that yet). But what about the rest of it? Go ahead, dissect my dream. What’s it all mean?
1I am getting ready to destroy my credit cards. Listening to: kzla.com download-the momma’s boy series Smelling: wet paint Reading: kim dearth the compassion of dogs Mood: puzzled
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secrets pondering: Why the right wingers who want to keep the government out of their business insist on putting the government in my bedroom laughing about: It gets lost in translation crying about: bad habits: smoking totally ballistic about: amen sister: someone else’s take on childlessness regular reads: cactustree |