Thursday, November 10, 2011

Strange dreams

The good news is I’ve been sleeping better than usual. The weird news is I’ve had some pretty funky dreams lately. I wish I knew more about dream analysis. What is my sub conscious trying to tell me? Are my dreams always this strange, or is it just that I never remember them, so I’m not aware of how strange they are regularly?






The other night I dreamed I was staying at Donna’s to work in the HPS Network office. Her house became infected with these bugs, sort of like large ticks. They were biting us, and no matter what we did, there were these little blood sucking bugs pinching us and making Ashley and I bleed everywhere. Oh boy – what kind of symbolism is there????? I’m almost afraid to ask!






Many of my dreams have been more like memories from different points in my life. I recognize them as things that have happened. The thing is they aren’t memories of memorable things. Instead, they’re memories of the most mundane things.






For example, I dreamed I was out on a date with a guy I dated 15 or more years ago. I dreamed we went out to a bar, and I had on this dress I really liked. All through the date I didn’t hear anything he said because I was too busy thinking about how great I looked in this dress! I’m not normally so self involved. The thing is, I do remember that dress and I really liked it. I also didn’t date this guy very long because, honestly, we had no interests in common. His favorite topic of conversation was all the things he did in college that he probably shouldn’t have done. The stories of drunken frat boy antics were a huge turn off. So, what was that dream all about? I haven’t thought about the guy or the dress in ages!






Or, another night I dreamed I was back in the house we lived in when I was in high school (the house in Wallhofen, Germany.) It was in the country and surrounded by dairy farms. I used to make the local farmers so upset because I’d either ride my bike, or run, along the fence where the cows were gathering to be fed and milked in the evenings. Cows will follow almost anything, and if you run along the fence, they’ll start running with you. I remember how great it felt to run along that fence with 20 cows following me through the lush green and rolling Moore countryside. I used to joke I was making cottage cheese.


The farmers were not amused because after we’d all been for our run, the cows didn’t want to be milked. Still, although I’ve never been much of a runner, there was something liberating and freeing about getting the cows all stirred up. Why would I dream about that now? Again, I haven’t thought about it in years.


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