Friday, November 14, 2008

Calling Dr.Freud, Dr.Freud, calling....


Okay, I have to tell you about this strange dream I had, it was a morning dream (all the strange ones are)...and dear readers, I'll only tell you part of it, because, I know one should usually run away when someone says "Let me tell you about the strange dream I had"...it's akin to when someone asks you to smell something, and they ask "Does this smell bad to you?"...So at the risk of being the month old Gorgonzola of your day, here I go:


The main weird part of the dream is that I keep trying to get on an elevator but every time I am standing by the doors, some bald little man with a pot belly in a white t-shirt looks at me and smiles and I run away.

He's actually quite pleasant to me, but somehow I know he's a menace so I keep trying to trip him up by going to a different set of elevators....I finally ditch him and then I wake up.


I never get on the elevator, either.


I tried looking this one up and all the elevator interpretations are about whether you go up or down in the elevator....never about NOT GETTING ON THE ELEVATOR.


Oh and the reason why I need to get on the elevator is to meet my husband for a black-tie dinner and I can't take the stairs because I am pushing around my mother's wooden tea-cart....how f*cked up is that? By the way, don't need an interpretation on that one, I already have a clue...it's the elevator thing that has me stymied.


Okay all done shining a spotlight on my inner world...


oh wait, one more thing...I have been dreaming like a banshee since we got a memory foam pad for our bed. I mean dreaming off the roof! I dream and remember them almost every night , which is a good sign that I am getting REM sleep.


SO in an inadvertent way, I am recommending sleeping on foam.


What would Freud say?....



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