My dreams last night came in vignettes, for whatever reason. I'm getting ready to go on a long road trip, and I'm an anxiety-ridden mess over it, which is unusual for me, so maybe that has something to do with the way my brain jumped from dream to dream instead of one continuous unfolding like it usually does. What I love (and hate) about last night's/this morning's dreams is that each one had a beginning and an ending, and they were interconnected. I always remember my dreams vividly but rarely write them down... maybe I should start?
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I was in the car, driving, presumably on my trip, and my sister is in the car beside me. For some reason, we stop at the zoo. It's nice and cool there, and we're sitting on a bench, just chatting about stuff, when this guy sits down at a picnic table near us and starts talking to us. He's one of those people that doesn't seem to have much social common sense, in that he's just sort of spewing out his personal life to us. Then he starts talking about his sex life and what girls he will sleep with and who he won't, and at that point, my sister and I just start laughing at him. He gets offended and hurt, like we're being mean to him or something.
"I thought you two were, you know, mature enough women to talk about these things," he said, with a confused look on his face.
"Do you really need to tell us all about your life?" I asked him. My sister is still doubled up in giggles. "You don't even know us."
We decided it was time to leave and get on with our trip, and this guy follows us to the parking lot. I whisper to my sister not to let him see which car is ours, so we wait for him to get in his car and leave. He opens the door of a dirty black Mustang and gets in, gives us a jaunty wave, puts on a pair of I-Am-So-Cool sunglasses, and drives off. It's very dramatic.
My sister says, "Well, OK THEN, DEAN." And we both laugh.
And I'm all, "I was totally just thinking that same thing."
It all made sense in the dream, the way things always make sense in the dream.
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Spinning off from the last dream, the next one starts up. We're going to find our car in the zoo parking lot. By some mysterious happenstance, I now have a black purse full of Stuff. Naturally, it takes me forever (in dream-time) to find my keys, and when I finally do, I realize that some other car has parked so close to mine that I can't open my door. At first I think I'll have to tell my sister to climb over the passenger's side seat and back the car out, but then somehow there's more room than I originally thought, so we get in.
I leave the zoo parking lot, but everything in the car is awry (I don't really remember how or why). And my mom is now with us. I'm tangled up in my seat belt, and I'm trying to drive on a busy freeway. I'm in the far left lane, which is the most annoying thing ever because I'm driving way below the speed limit and everyone on the freeway is pissed off at me. (Metaphor for my life? I don't know but maybe.)
To untangle myself from the stupid seat belt, I have to let go of the steering wheel and open up the car door, so my mom is trying to steer, and my door is flying all the way open, but I finally get myself sorted just as we pick up speed and flash by a few cops - with the door open. Crap. I lean out over the road, grab the door, and slam it closed. The cops don't seem to care about that, but they're directing us off the road which is no longer a freeway and which is lined with people that I'm trying not to run over. Some sort of event. And I have no idea how to get back to the freeway, of course.
So we park our car and wander up to this museum-like complex. My sister and I lose my mom. This dream gets a little fuzzy at this point, but I remember these things:
-- bitching about why they have to block the whole road off for this whatever-it-is event.
-- walking up, we can see an old-style fighter plane (WW I-era) model doing loops very close overhead, and the crowd is applauding.
-- An elderly lady in a coat-check-type room is talking to an employee, saying, "We need some of those photons for weapons." The employee replies, "Photons aren't weapons." I grin at him and say, "Not yet, anyway!" And it's like, some kind of conspiratorial exchange. Something is up with photons.
-- Wandering into an open hall with my sister and seen David Ogden Stiers smelling a brick wall. Then he starts climbing it. I tell my sister, "This must be the M*A*S*H wing." I'm disappointed when she doesn't know what I'm talking about. The afore-mentioned DOS is now hanging upside down from a rafter on the ceiling. OK, then.
-- I finally find someone with a map and ask them how to get back to the freeway. The map makes absolutely no sense in the way that nothing makes sense in dreams, sometimes. Frustrating.
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At this point, I think I maybe heard the front door shut when my sister left for work (really, not in a dream), and that woke me up a little and reminded me that I needed to wake up, too. But sadly, it sent me into the next dream spiral...
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Reset to zero. I have yet to leave on my trip.
I was lying in bed with my phone, and I randomly decide to call my friend![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ciri. This is odd, because we communicate normally through Twitter, email, internetsy stuff but not by phone call. So she is understandably confused when she answers the phone and it's me.
"It's Friday! I just thought I'd call to check and see how you're doing," I said. Apparently, I had suddenly developed a case of has-no-social-common-sense. Probably caught it from that guy at the zoo.
"Well," she says, hesitantly, "I've had a stomach ache for the last two days."
"Oh," I say, and I'm worried. "You should really go to the doctor. That can't be good."
"Maybe," she says.
"I hope you feel better soon. I'll let you go so you can rest."
"OK, bye!"
I put the phone down and went back to sleep.
----------
I wake up again, and instead of knowing that I'm dreaming (I usually do know, at least vaguely), I think I'm actually awake, and the previous dreams are dreams that I just finished having and remember on waking.
There are piles of clothes in my bedroom, and more outside. There's a fold-away couch that is folded out. It needs to be put away, so I take some of the clothes off of it, remove the cushions and pillows, and fold it back in on itself with the sheets still on (red sheets. ominous. or so I felt.) My sister comes in and speaks with me, but her words are garbled and indistinct. I'm trying to speak with her and fold all the laundry and put the cushions back on the fold-away sofa, which is sitting awkwardly in the middle of the living room.
I just give up, lay down on the sofa, and go to sleep.
----------
I wake up again, thinking I'm awake, and everything gone before is just dreams. It's dark, and I think it must be raining or about to rain. I try to turn on the light, but it won't turn on. I walk out into the living room - I've got no clothes on, for some reason, but I'm trying to find something to put on from the laundry piles that are still there. No lights. The fans will turn on, but the lights will not. I think maybe something is wrong with the house, so I try to find my phone to call David. I go back into the office, and just as I get there, a kind-looking, elderly gentleman steps out of my sister's room and says, "Hello, Brandie." I scream, but I don't try to run. He's fiddling with some things in the closet, then leans into the office and points to a wall. "Do you want to choose a picture to go here?" he asks, as if this is the most normal thing ever. I'm terrified and huddled on the floor, and I'm thinking about how I can never reach the phone because I won't make it past this guy before he kills me.
----------
And then I woke up for real, and it's nice and sunny, and the lights all work, and I'm waaay behind schedule and trying to just not care. So now I need to go pack my suitcase, find all the cords to all the electronic stuff I need to take, and get my butt on the road. I hope I'll sleep much better tonight.
----------
I was in the car, driving, presumably on my trip, and my sister is in the car beside me. For some reason, we stop at the zoo. It's nice and cool there, and we're sitting on a bench, just chatting about stuff, when this guy sits down at a picnic table near us and starts talking to us. He's one of those people that doesn't seem to have much social common sense, in that he's just sort of spewing out his personal life to us. Then he starts talking about his sex life and what girls he will sleep with and who he won't, and at that point, my sister and I just start laughing at him. He gets offended and hurt, like we're being mean to him or something.
"I thought you two were, you know, mature enough women to talk about these things," he said, with a confused look on his face.
"Do you really need to tell us all about your life?" I asked him. My sister is still doubled up in giggles. "You don't even know us."
We decided it was time to leave and get on with our trip, and this guy follows us to the parking lot. I whisper to my sister not to let him see which car is ours, so we wait for him to get in his car and leave. He opens the door of a dirty black Mustang and gets in, gives us a jaunty wave, puts on a pair of I-Am-So-Cool sunglasses, and drives off. It's very dramatic.
My sister says, "Well, OK THEN, DEAN." And we both laugh.
And I'm all, "I was totally just thinking that same thing."
It all made sense in the dream, the way things always make sense in the dream.
-----------
Spinning off from the last dream, the next one starts up. We're going to find our car in the zoo parking lot. By some mysterious happenstance, I now have a black purse full of Stuff. Naturally, it takes me forever (in dream-time) to find my keys, and when I finally do, I realize that some other car has parked so close to mine that I can't open my door. At first I think I'll have to tell my sister to climb over the passenger's side seat and back the car out, but then somehow there's more room than I originally thought, so we get in.
I leave the zoo parking lot, but everything in the car is awry (I don't really remember how or why). And my mom is now with us. I'm tangled up in my seat belt, and I'm trying to drive on a busy freeway. I'm in the far left lane, which is the most annoying thing ever because I'm driving way below the speed limit and everyone on the freeway is pissed off at me. (Metaphor for my life? I don't know but maybe.)
To untangle myself from the stupid seat belt, I have to let go of the steering wheel and open up the car door, so my mom is trying to steer, and my door is flying all the way open, but I finally get myself sorted just as we pick up speed and flash by a few cops - with the door open. Crap. I lean out over the road, grab the door, and slam it closed. The cops don't seem to care about that, but they're directing us off the road which is no longer a freeway and which is lined with people that I'm trying not to run over. Some sort of event. And I have no idea how to get back to the freeway, of course.
So we park our car and wander up to this museum-like complex. My sister and I lose my mom. This dream gets a little fuzzy at this point, but I remember these things:
-- bitching about why they have to block the whole road off for this whatever-it-is event.
-- walking up, we can see an old-style fighter plane (WW I-era) model doing loops very close overhead, and the crowd is applauding.
-- An elderly lady in a coat-check-type room is talking to an employee, saying, "We need some of those photons for weapons." The employee replies, "Photons aren't weapons." I grin at him and say, "Not yet, anyway!" And it's like, some kind of conspiratorial exchange. Something is up with photons.
-- Wandering into an open hall with my sister and seen David Ogden Stiers smelling a brick wall. Then he starts climbing it. I tell my sister, "This must be the M*A*S*H wing." I'm disappointed when she doesn't know what I'm talking about. The afore-mentioned DOS is now hanging upside down from a rafter on the ceiling. OK, then.
-- I finally find someone with a map and ask them how to get back to the freeway. The map makes absolutely no sense in the way that nothing makes sense in dreams, sometimes. Frustrating.
------------
At this point, I think I maybe heard the front door shut when my sister left for work (really, not in a dream), and that woke me up a little and reminded me that I needed to wake up, too. But sadly, it sent me into the next dream spiral...
----------
Reset to zero. I have yet to leave on my trip.
I was lying in bed with my phone, and I randomly decide to call my friend
ciri. This is odd, because we communicate normally through Twitter, email, internetsy stuff but not by phone call. So she is understandably confused when she answers the phone and it's me. "It's Friday! I just thought I'd call to check and see how you're doing," I said. Apparently, I had suddenly developed a case of has-no-social-common-sense. Probably caught it from that guy at the zoo.
"Well," she says, hesitantly, "I've had a stomach ache for the last two days."
"Oh," I say, and I'm worried. "You should really go to the doctor. That can't be good."
"Maybe," she says.
"I hope you feel better soon. I'll let you go so you can rest."
"OK, bye!"
I put the phone down and went back to sleep.
----------
I wake up again, and instead of knowing that I'm dreaming (I usually do know, at least vaguely), I think I'm actually awake, and the previous dreams are dreams that I just finished having and remember on waking.
There are piles of clothes in my bedroom, and more outside. There's a fold-away couch that is folded out. It needs to be put away, so I take some of the clothes off of it, remove the cushions and pillows, and fold it back in on itself with the sheets still on (red sheets. ominous. or so I felt.) My sister comes in and speaks with me, but her words are garbled and indistinct. I'm trying to speak with her and fold all the laundry and put the cushions back on the fold-away sofa, which is sitting awkwardly in the middle of the living room.
I just give up, lay down on the sofa, and go to sleep.
----------
I wake up again, thinking I'm awake, and everything gone before is just dreams. It's dark, and I think it must be raining or about to rain. I try to turn on the light, but it won't turn on. I walk out into the living room - I've got no clothes on, for some reason, but I'm trying to find something to put on from the laundry piles that are still there. No lights. The fans will turn on, but the lights will not. I think maybe something is wrong with the house, so I try to find my phone to call David. I go back into the office, and just as I get there, a kind-looking, elderly gentleman steps out of my sister's room and says, "Hello, Brandie." I scream, but I don't try to run. He's fiddling with some things in the closet, then leans into the office and points to a wall. "Do you want to choose a picture to go here?" he asks, as if this is the most normal thing ever. I'm terrified and huddled on the floor, and I'm thinking about how I can never reach the phone because I won't make it past this guy before he kills me.
----------
And then I woke up for real, and it's nice and sunny, and the lights all work, and I'm waaay behind schedule and trying to just not care. So now I need to go pack my suitcase, find all the cords to all the electronic stuff I need to take, and get my butt on the road. I hope I'll sleep much better tonight.
