August 29, 2011 § Leave a comment
I’m the worst at getting up in the morning. I’m one of those snooze button people. That’s right, 7 or 8 times. I think it’s because I have some of my most vivid dreams in between snoozes. Good or bad, I need seven more minutes to see what happens.
So there I am in between snoozes. This was a day after the Zombie dream which ended with a Zombie on my plane out of NYC, even though the outbreak wasn’t as bad as the one in San Francisco. It was a pretty stressful dream and my co-worker and I equated it to our jobs.
In waking life, Mister Red and I have gotten to a whole new level in our relationship. The L-word is being dropped just about everywhere, live-in tooth brushes were exchanged, most recently a razor spent a couple of days near my sink. I think that’s my turning point. The razor. I can’t stand whiskers in the sink, and not that there were any extraneous leftover whisker remains, but I had been happily living whisker free for a while now. This is certainly a double standard because I surly have a hairbrush taking residence in his bathroom, but nonetheless it made me notice the rapid progression of our intimacy.
Now let me tell you my dream. I’m in a large room, vaulted ceilings, huge, fully carpeted, it feels like a church. All of my best girl friends are there wearing the same long dress. My mother is holding open a white gown for me to step into. It’s my wedding dress. I am refusing to step into it like I five year old who won’t finish her peas. My mother is telling me I have to. I know I’m marrying Mister Red, but I say I’m not ready. I try to reason with my mom who is trying to make me feel guilty. She is reminding me off all the people who traveled so far to be there, and all the money, all the time, the huge amount of effort that went into the planning of this day. I try to reason with her, “let’s just have a big party, everyone’s already here. It will be epic!” and “if you just let me call him, I know he’ll agree.” I’m thinking in my head that its way too soon, I need two more years. Just two more years, then I will be ready.
The snooze button goes off, and I wake up, my heart is pounding. Wow. Where did I get that magic number of two more years from? And why was I so freaked out? I do what we all do when we have a dream that leaves an impression on us. I look it up on the internet. This is what it said about a wedding dress: To wear a wedding dress in your dream, indicates that you are evaluating and assessing your personal relationship.
Well, what about my refusal to wear the wedding dress? Am I refusing to be me? Be something I’m not? Maybe it doesn’t have to do with Mister Red at all? I do know that I will be the dirty 30 in two years. The end of my twenties, yet I feel as though I don’t have much to show for it. Sure, now I am ever more confused. I just hope I can dream up this sequel tonight.