Mr Sandman: Not As Benign As You Think
Today you, probably, would be presented with necessity to look at a situation in other way. Most likely, it wouldn't be pleasant for you.
Yeah, that's about right.
After a series of anxiety dreams Sunday night, most of which involved Variations on a Theme of Getting Fired, I was hoping for a more psychologically peaceful sleep last night.
No such luck.
The night kicked off with a dream involving public nudity and humiliation (both mine), from which I was awakened by one of my cats, who required that I get out of my nice warm bed and pad downstairs in near-zero temperatures to let it out.
After drifting back off to sleep, I was told by my boss in no uncertain terms that the upcoming Team Bonding Day would cost $500 per person, and was compulsory. 'We've kept the cost down so that no-one had an excuse not to go', he explained.
Moving on, I chatted to my mother for a while about needing a formal dress for the mid-year ball, and remarked that she didn't seem very interested in helping me choose one.
'Sorry, darling', she said, 'but I don't think it'll make much difference. I just don't think you're very pretty.' Naturally, I was hurt, and said as much.
'Well, I don't know what your problem is', she said, 'it's not an insult. I mean, you're clean and presentable and everything. You're just not that attractive. I asked some of your friends if they thought so, and they all agreed with me'.
Somehow, it being a dream and all, the character of my mother morphed into my husband, and I spent the last few minutes of the dream stomping around all 'Fine, then, if you don't want to be seen with me, if I'm not pretty enough, I'll just walk over here on my own'. And, people, I woke up absolutely furious with the poor man. Like, not wanting to look him in the eye or speak to him furious.
Naturally, I sobered up (which is what waking up after a hard night's sleep feels like to me, is that a bad sign?) and realised I couldn't possibly hold a grudge against him for something that happened in a dream.
My mother, on the other hand, better stay away from me for a while.
Yeah, that's about right.
After a series of anxiety dreams Sunday night, most of which involved Variations on a Theme of Getting Fired, I was hoping for a more psychologically peaceful sleep last night.
No such luck.
The night kicked off with a dream involving public nudity and humiliation (both mine), from which I was awakened by one of my cats, who required that I get out of my nice warm bed and pad downstairs in near-zero temperatures to let it out.
After drifting back off to sleep, I was told by my boss in no uncertain terms that the upcoming Team Bonding Day would cost $500 per person, and was compulsory. 'We've kept the cost down so that no-one had an excuse not to go', he explained.
Moving on, I chatted to my mother for a while about needing a formal dress for the mid-year ball, and remarked that she didn't seem very interested in helping me choose one.
'Sorry, darling', she said, 'but I don't think it'll make much difference. I just don't think you're very pretty.' Naturally, I was hurt, and said as much.
'Well, I don't know what your problem is', she said, 'it's not an insult. I mean, you're clean and presentable and everything. You're just not that attractive. I asked some of your friends if they thought so, and they all agreed with me'.
Somehow, it being a dream and all, the character of my mother morphed into my husband, and I spent the last few minutes of the dream stomping around all 'Fine, then, if you don't want to be seen with me, if I'm not pretty enough, I'll just walk over here on my own'. And, people, I woke up absolutely furious with the poor man. Like, not wanting to look him in the eye or speak to him furious.
Naturally, I sobered up (which is what waking up after a hard night's sleep feels like to me, is that a bad sign?) and realised I couldn't possibly hold a grudge against him for something that happened in a dream.
My mother, on the other hand, better stay away from me for a while.
posted by tanya at 9:35 am
1 Comments:
Hahahaha!
I had a dream last night about something similar. It was the mother of my husband. When she walked she always slowed down until she was kind of walking where I was just about to walk --veering towards me in a blinded, de-energised fashion. I wished she's just choose her own path of movement and keep to it, but she was attracted to mine. "It's submission, you know!" -- I said to her. "My mother is the same." The women looked at me as though I was just merely affirming a fact of life in a complementary fashion.
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