Yeah, between moving and preparing the old house for sale and getting the kids registered at their schools (Yay for the dual-language program! We didn't have to move schools ... and, actually, where we moved puts the big kids in the boundaries for their preferred high school in a couple years. And they still can ride the bus to middle school ... so will Bubbles, in fact. I have to transport Bubbles to her school, since we're outside HER school boundaries, but she's grandfathered in because ... wait for it .. the dual-language program. That and I think that her elementary would be sad if I abdicated my secretarial duties for the Parent Teacher Club. Just sayin'.)
SO, I had a doozy of a dream last night.
Starter: In it, I was me-but-not-me. I was single. Had roommates. Had a single-story house. Had a date.
He took me to a little ice cream place. I didn't order anything wildly expensive. We chatted. It was ... okay. Not the best date. Could be worse.
Went to a church dance. He was also driving a couple of his (guy) friends in the backseat. We went to the dance. There was another guy who treated me much more like a gentleman. He looked familiar. I couldn't recognize him at first ... it was really my friend's old brother (who, IRL, I did crush on back in the day), as his early-marriage self (since I was also a lot sleeker in my dream. Why is that?). But his wife came and she and I chatted. And I finally recognized him.
On the drive home, my date was kinda pointedly unhappy. I offered to help chip in for gas. Not because we'd driven a long way, but because he was running a little low and I felt bad for not wanting to go on another date with him ... like, ever. So, even though I don't have a job, I wanted to soften the blow a little, you know?
I was going to give him, what, five dollars, since it wasn't a long drive. And he kept hinting that more would be better. And I didn't want to fill up his tank, since he didn't drive THAT far or spend that much money on our date. ... And, in my purse, I had limited cash. And a BUNCH of these "Christmas Coupons:" shiny, white paper vouchers with bright color printing. The red-printed one was for $2. There was also a $5 voucher, one for $3, another for $7 ... just weird amounts. So I primly stated (for benefit of the guys in the backseat, so THEY'D be aware that shaking your date down for gas money is NOT the done thing, that I didn't think that filling his tank would be fair. And that I didn't realize that this was the expectation. I did give him, over $5, but less than $15. I just wanted to be done with the conversation and rid of him.
THAT car ride FINALLY ended. Then he demanded, while my roommates' dog and cat swarmed me as I got out of that interminable car, that we read scriptures before he left. And by "we," he meant "me." So I'm petting a dog and trying to stop the cat from pouncing on its underbelly, claws out, and reading .... Isaiah, maybe? And I'm tripping on all the words as the animals are wriggly. And I'm thinking,"This is horrible. All three of those guys are going to think that I'm completely illiterate!"
THEN the cat drooled and got it in my mouth, like a LOT of drool. And I started gagging. And I was all, "Guys, I've GOT to go." Since I didn't want to throw up in front of them. I ran for the house, made it inside. Told a roommate in the front room that I'd be in the bathroom. Made it.
So, I'm sitting on the toilet, minding my own business, proverbially licking my wounds ... and, through the floor-length windows (thank goodness for sheers!!), THE DATE is griping about how I didn't give him a kiss or anything. I am SITTING ON THE TOILET ... having thrown up from a dripping of cat drool in my MOUTH ... and he has WALKED AROUND TO THE BACK OF THE HOUSE to gripe about NOT getting a kiss?
Then that dream ended. (Girls? NEVER date a guy like that. Ever.)
Second section of dreamtime: I stole a not-segway, but like it? You had to pedal it, but the bottom was shaped like a little tank. And it said it was from the Queen Valley Police Department ... So, NOT Seattle (King County), but like unto? It was in a city, anyways.
And I realized that I should have disguised myself. I was going through celebrities ... and settled that I SHOULD have disguised myself as Jennifer Lawrence, since she totally COULD AND WOULD pull off a prank like that.
Then, Jennifer Lawrence was there. And she wanted me to help her with some heist. So she's rolling my clothes (on me -- like a loose cardigan and other stereotypical librarian wear get-up) so that it'll fit better under a catsuit. And then I can ditch the catsuit, rip off the stickers, and be fully dressed ... to, I don't know, establish an alibi or something?
As we're about ready, she asks how my ears are. And I'm CONFUSED. She restates the question as, "When did you last see a chiropractor?" (Answer, irl, when I was pregnant with Bruise and Bucket ... so over 12 years) ... My dream-self said, "Um ... like 1999?" She was disgusted and beckoned over a mousy-type man. And he was a chiropractor. And he started manipulating my back and neck ... and I could just FEEL the tension falling off my neck, shoulders, and back ... SO GOOD.
And then I woke up with sore shoulders and not having completed the heist. Sorry Jennifer Lawrence. Maybe if you get me that chiropractor, I might consider it.
..............................................
So ... if you're the type to look for meaning in dreams, what is my subconscious trying to tell me?
(Maybe, stay off the melatonin? Maybe go see a chiropractor? Maybe money IS just a bunch of weird colors printed on weird paper? Maybe I need to try to hem those crazy-long sheer curtains that I hung in the guest room last week? I don't know.)
Okay, now to get dressed, work at unpacking, hope the phone tech comes soon so that we can go the an activity at a local park this morning, clean the basement and the bathrooms and the kitchen ... Finish reading and reviewing an eBook I got for free.
Even though all I really want to do is just lay in bed and read and sleep. Good times.
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