Bad Dreams
Saturday morning I woke up swaddled in residual rage. My heart pounded, my fists clenched, my jaw ached from a nighttime of grinding. I'd had the kind of dream that feels so real my mind had tricked my body into responding--sweaty palms, blurred vision, tight chest--and man was I ever ANGRY.
I turned to Simon and told him I'd had a nightmare.
"Poor baby! What's the matter?" He was all comfort.
"Well, these people came to my office to give us an organizational makeover, and I told them to just stay away from my desk, thanks, because I knew exactly what was where in all those teetering piles and I couldn't have them messing it up, but then, while I was out half-assing a triathlon (I was wearing kitten heels, see), they rearragned everything--threw out half my stuff, took apart my big desk and replaced it with a tiny secretary (furniture, not human), and moved my computer to a corner behind a plant because it impoved the flow of chi. I was livid. Like kicking and screaming and crying and cursing firey with unbridled rage. I sued them right there on the spot for work-time lost and severe emotional trauma. But that's not all! While I was in the triathlon, I ran into Gandhi (who was nice, wise, etc.) but also Laurence Olivier, who was a total jerk! He was arrogant and dismissive, a real dick!, and even though I never even liked the guy (I don't care what era you're from; overacting is overacting), I was at least trying to be friendly and he wouldn't even acknowledge that there was someone in the room besides his own over-inflated self. What an ass!"
I went on like that for minutes, barely pausing for breath. I was so enraged I wanted to slip back into the dream just for the chance to give those idiot organizers and the haughty Sir Laurence a what for.
As Simon pointed out, some people have nightmares about monsters or spiders or sudden death, but only I have nightmares about feng shui and offensive thespians.
feng shui? yeah... scary...
Lucky you, though... your dreams make for good blog fodder. Mine, are just inappropriate. ;)
I once had a dream that Mariah Carey and I got into a fight and I pushed her off a cliff. This was after we went sledding on a grassy hill. Some other time I'll tell you about the dream I had when I was competing on America's Next Top Model.
Also, I've been a very poor commentator to your blog, but that is because my work has decided to block your website (and no other websites I peruse on my lunch break) and all my energy to comment is zapped by the time I get home. Unless it's about nightmares involving celebrities. That wakes me back up.
I dream about offensive thespians all the time.
Unfortunately, I have sex with them.
I have dreams about offensive (but only on television) British thespians as well. It was Hugh Laurie, he died in a terrorist attack and I woke up in tears. That was a rough night.
i think i'm going to name my next band "the offensive thespians". so nobody steal the name.
I have to admit that it would not be that far-fetched for me to have a nightmare involving organization. I feel validated.
Also, I'd like to take a moment to point out that your Google ad is currently advertising a website targeted to black guys who only date white girls. I have no idea where they would have found the keywords on this page that led to putting that ad up. That is all.
I had a dream that I did some sort of geological project for Chairman Mao! He was asking his advisers for their opinion on my work and they told him I'd obviously been well trained by their staff, etc., at which point Mao pounded his fist on the table and yelled, "Why can't you just give her credit for what she's accomplished? Is it because she's a woman??" Spittle was flying out of his mouth. So bizarre.
that sounds awful! I think you need a vacation :)
You are lucky you even remember your dreams. I am sure I dream every night, but I rarely wake up empowered, inspired or even seething from a dream.