My first dream for 2007

I don't know about you people, but I only remember the dreams that happen right before I wake up. I'm not saying I don't dream all night long - I just think I'm more able to recall the last dreams of the morning because my consciousness is already arising out of sleep. I only have a layman's knowledge of REM cycles, so you sleep experts need to help me out.

Dream #1, 2007:

I arrive at the parent's McMansion to walk their horse of a dog. As I pull down the street, I see a familiar face working with the paving crew who is lining their driveway with these idiotic pavers. If you're going to pave the driveway, why do you people stop five feet from the street and call it a day? Looks stupid. Anyway, the new paver-crew-person was an old friend/coworker of mine, back when I worked in Calhoun (restaurant mgt). I hadn't seen him in forever, since he left his bitchy wife and kids for my assistant manager and her two toddlers. But I digress.

I didn't want to get him fired from his uber-nazi Paver Foreman Person, so I gave him a quick hug. Paver foreman person yelled at Asst. Paver Foreman Person, who, as usual, was kissing my ass, asking if I needed help (up the driveway?). I said goodbye to old coworker friend and went inside.

Because I had to pee. I go in my parent's super weird bathroom (nice, looks like white Pottery Barn, but has a big crystal chandelier that you wouldn't notice unless you looked up at the 20 ft. ceiling. Weird house, I'm telling you.) I look at their big pretty sink(s) and notice they've replaced them with one of those glazed shebangs. It's very pretty - it has a really deep-dark blue stripe running the sloped rim. However...it has butterflies. EGAD. Two enormous 1986 butterflies - one in each corner. Painted in pastel pinks, purples, and green. AAARGGH.

I'm reflecting on the stupidity of this new glazed sink when I notice an old glazed sink (perfectly fine and more my speed, with a nice auburn/terra cotta trim)sitting next to me. The sink is just sitting there, looking dusty. I ponder swiping it and installing it in my own bathroom at home.

And then POOF. I am home. I'm just waking up, and have to pee again. I go in my own bathroom and as I sit down, I notice that the trashbasket has a new bag in it. That's odd. Z must have changed it...but it wasn't full oh what the hell. OCD moment. Charky meets me in there. She's about 4, when her hair was bobbed and way cute. She asks me if she can wear her Pre-K graduation dress today - a red and white polka-dotted job sitting on the floor in a Kroger bag. I tell her yes, and then ask her if she's peeing because I'm beginning to see little rivulets hit my bathroom floor. She tells me she is. I ask her to go use her own bathroom. Like the sweet little kid she is, she first wants to fix the puddle on my floor, so she grabs my wool coat from the knob in the bathroom (?) and tries to mop up the puddle. I go nuts and yell out...she scampers away to her own bathroom.

Awake.

So here are the themes for analysis.

Life events circa 2003: Why am I dreaming about my daughter during this time (the time around my divorce)? My coworker was also around during this year. What's the story? I rarely think about this period because it was kind of awful in a lot of ways.

My daughter was still a "little girl"...she's not so much now. Seeing her that way was pretty bittersweet. Ouch. I wish I hadn't missed so much of that.

Trashcan OCD: I think I have that one...I'm tired of changing the trash. I understand that Z is kind of going through a hard time, but I absolutely detest cleaning house, and taking out the trash is a man's job. Sorry. It is. If I have to do your freaking laundry you have to dispose of my trash. And I'm actually a pretty good woman in the bathroom. My man is much messier in there than I am. Are there any men out there who actually completely wipe the rim of the sink of the stray shaved hairs that have fallen? Why do I have to look at these little red orange blond creatures when I'm brushing my teeth? Whatever.

Peeing: That's easy to figure out. Am I the only person who wishes they didn't wake up in the morning because they have to pee? What a pain in the ass. Back in the days of Methadone, I could sleep 14-16 hours...it was almost as if my bladder was frozen in space. If I remember correctly, it was a hard time in the morning trying to pee, too.

So there you go, people. Happy 2nd Day of 2007.



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