You know how it’s almost never interesting to hear about other people’s dreams and how it’s tedious to listen to them try to recall if they were standing in the school, or was it a bomb shelter, when the cat drove up on the zamboni to tell them that Timmy was in the well? Yeah, I don’t care, because my dreams are FASCINATING and sometimes you all are in them. Like last week when I dreamed that I was visiting Eliana in New York (which is not where she lives) and she had the rocking chair I gave away (and by gave away I mean surreptitiously left in an apartment complex parking lot near the dumpster hoping that someone would find it and haul it up to her apartment) when I moved into my new place. I’m pretty sure that dream would have become fascinating except that my neighbor woke me up screaming at his ex-wife that she had left him for another guy. Then they both yelled profanities at one another while I wondered what kind of adventures Eliana and I would have had with my rocking chair in New York.
My mom has interesting dreams. They’re usually about babies. Sometimes the babies are dressed like Elvis. Last week she dreamed I was pregnant and that when she commented that she hadn’t known I was dating anyone, I told her I was not. I do not care for the aspersions my mother casts upon me subconsciously. Except that I have dreams in which I’m marrying someone who’s already married all the time. And then I’m more upset that my dress is the color of a creamsicle than that I’m marrying someone inappropriate.
I’m only able to tell you about these dreams because I’ve already eaten breakfast today. If you tell your dreams BEFORE breakfast, they come true, and I really don’t want to get married in a creamsicle colored dress.
2 comments:
i read on someone's blog that one of the curses of being human is that you have to listen to other people tell you their dreams. amen, amen.
If only I had known about the telling your dreams before breakfast thing. So much would be different.
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