A Bad Dream

13 Jun

Last night, I  had a really bad dream. I will explain, and offer my interpretations below.**

It started out in the shadows of a torrential down pour, as I drove home from a weekend spent with friends in the city (light giving way to darkness, ergo the change in psyche as I made my journey home). The rain pounded, my windshield wipers whipped, (representing the end of the week chaos)  and then, like a stroke of lightning, the passenger side window magically disappeared into the door of my car (no interpretation possible). While my subconscious contemplated the deeper meaning of such bizarre happenstance, the wind and rain continued to fall, soaking the inside of my car, and the side of my face (tears, anguish over my piece of $#*% car).

Fast forward–I find myself at home, in the garage (aka my soul) trying desperately to pull the window out from in-between the miniscule space with a pair of needle nose pliers too wide to fit the gap (dreams and ambitions too large accomplish in the small space of my day, obviously). My dad comes down to help me, and after attempting to fix the window himself, realizes it will need to be fixed by a professional. He tapes a black sheet of plastic over the window, but tells me he will help (suppression of said dreams and ambitions, my dependence). I cry.

Fast forward again–It’s now Sunday morning, and I am tired (my literal lack of sleep). I go down for breakfast, and my dad tells me I should find a way to fix my car as soon as possible. After wracking my brain in an attempt to find a spare second of time in which I have to do this (overwhelming nature of life), and expressing my frustration in the fact that I can find none, I tell my dad I thought he would be able to help. He tells me he’s changed his mind and I will have to handle this on my own because I am “negative”. He then quips that perhaps my car will get stolen and my problem will be solved (my search for an easy way out?). He gets up and leaves me in the kitchen alone, then spends the rest of the day pretending nothing happened. I spend the rest of the day trying to find an open garage, checking bus schedules, and begging friends for the use of their couch while my car gets repaired (a continuous cycle of dependency and exasperation). DREAM ENDS.

What a thinker. But wait…hold on just one second….that wasn’t a dream.

THAT WAS MY WEEKEND.

 

**I do not know how to interpret dreams

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2 Responses to “A Bad Dream”

  1. Laura June 14, 2011 at 8:18 pm #

    That’s the worst!!!! Lo Siento mi Amiga! I hope your window gets fixed soon!

    (I had a dream last night that I was still in Marching band.. I woke up this morning, scared to move from my bed, because I didn’t want to have to go to band practice – DEAD SERIOUS)

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