DREAMER SEEKING INTERPRETER

Posted: December 21, 2011 in Just Life
Tags: , , , , ,

I’m walking up a flight of stairs wearing a black button down shirt, hot pink biking shorts and torn up black and red converse. My legs are hairy and the perspective of the dream is through my eyes, so all I see when looking down is hot pink, hair, and cons.

Apparently, I have a new job in a building with so many stairs I feel like I’m in an M.C. Escher drawing. I work for a team of executives all wearing corduroy suits. One of them is having a birthday and since I’m new, they assign me the task of getting her a birthday present. Be unique.

I determine the birthday girl is somewhat weird after a conversation about Mexican jumping beans and decide to buy her a horse. However, she reveals to me that she already owns a horse because she got one for her birthday the previous year and he eats the hair off her brush. I’m appalled; doesn’t she live in an apartment and take a train to work? I’m now upset about the horse and imagine renting a U-Haul van to transport him to a freedom farm.

The idea of riding with my weird co-worker quickly snuffs this idea, maybe she loves her horse, maybe he likes the city life, and maybe I’ll get her The Henna Body Art Kit from Barnes & Noble instead.

I commence walking up another flight of stairs to visit an old friend. On my walk, a woman who has something to show me joins me. I itch my hairy thigh while walking.

She opens what looks like a portfolio binder and says, “Someone sent me a razor blade anonymously.” Then she slides it out of a plastic pocket and it is clearly a magnet. “I cut the whole length of my arm.” She lifts her sleeve and nothing is there, but I nod in agreement, it’s her reality, right? As we walk she slides out another magnet cut in the shape of Caesars Palace and points out a name written at the top, “What does that say?”

It reads, Elmo. This makes her unhappy and she asks me what it means. I say it must be Italian and she storms off waving her hands and screaming, “I knew it!”

I arrive at my friend’s office that turns out to be my real friend Monkey (mentioned in a previous post) and she is wearing beige head to toe with hair down to her butt. I hear myself say, Beige? Yikes.

As a side note, I have never seen Monkey wear Beige. However, if she ever does I’m sure it would be in a trendy fashion.

Monkey refuses to look up, she’s writing, she has a deadline, she’s in a hurry, and it doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is her assistant who looks like Demi Moore from Ghost is smoking. Demi wedges herself between us then slowly backs up into me and forces me toward the door. I’m agitated and step around to her side so I can shake her hand. It’s limp and instead of a quick shake, I pump her hand until she leaves.

Monkey and I laugh, but she has a deadline so I tell her I’m off to find the best cookie in the food court (I don’t like cookies). Down the stairs, I travel around what seems to be hundreds of food vendors. I pass several freshly baked cookies and then land my attention on a cookie machine that works like a gumball dispenser.

I insert my three quarters and crank the handle to open the lid. It’s hard for me to turn the crank because the machine is above my head, it’s rusty, and I’m struggling. No one offers to help, but I finally get it and place the double chocolate chip on a used tissue from my pocket (do bicycle shorts have pockets?). I avoid the cashier worried she won’t believe I have already paid.

The last vendor in the row is Vegan. I stop and smell their tofu fries and dip one in the fish tank to see if the fish will bite.

End dream.

So what do you think it all means? I welcome your wisdom.

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Comments
  1. Sandi Ormsby says:

    Stop eating chocolate before bed? Only you can try to make sense of it, or someone really close to you? But I’m pissed that someone didn’t help you crank the machine for the cookies. People can be so rude and in your own dreams too… sheesh!

    I had a crazy dream post about Pacman and Godzilla http://wp.me/p1ilhc-qX

    Dreams can be so bizarre! 🙂

    Sandi
    http://www.ahhsome.wordpress.com
    Lake Forest, CA

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