Eff you, dreams!
I hate dreams. Hate, hate, hate ‘em. Thankfully I usually forget about them. This one, however, I still remember days later. I think I’ve identified all the brain-leaks, but who knows. The reasons I think things were part of my dream are in brackets. (The brackets are things about real life, NOT the dream world.) Here we go.
I was shopping for shirts at Club Monaco (I had a friend who loved that store) and a girl was helping me try them on. (I like girls.) The girl was flirting with me (as they all do.) In the mirror I looked very muscular. (I’ve been lifting weights as winter-exercise.) and the floral purple shirt made me look even manlier. I didn’t want to spend money on it though (I’ve been using Mint.com to track every expense, and my shopping budget is spent for this month.)
My whole family then briefly joined me in the store. They disappeared and I went out the door, then right back in. I had forgotten my briefcases. I had a couple cases with me, one of which looked like the kind someone would handcuff to themselves. It contained my laptop. (My work has become more and more valuable in my life this year.)
As I went outside, I looked around and thought I was on Boylston Street in Boston. (Boston has come up a lot in different conversations in the last week. It’s been spooky.) Except the street was torn to pieces. War-torn or post-apocalyptic. (That day I was reading a lot about people fighting over jobs cause the economy is sunk. I was also watching a British sitcom in which the main character couldn’t find a job. In my head, general joblessness leads to war-torn streets.)
I looked around for a cab or something but couldn’t find one. A limo pulls up and a does a handbrake turn and the dream-camera swings over the back of the limo as the limo slides under, the door opens, the camera swings down and pushes inside the back seat of the limo, and sitting there is my younger sister, Katie. She says, “this more like it?” (When I work a lot, as I’ve been doing, I sometimes think about where I could get if I kept working hard for the rest of my life. Putting my whole family in limos could be on the list.)
I get in the limo and ask the driver what happened to Boston. He tells me it’s San Francisco, not Boston. (We’ve been talking at work about how San Francisco and Boston are two big tech startup hubs.)
That’s about where it ended.
This is only the overview. I could’ve gotten into a crazy level of detail which is strange for a dream. Also, hello future-Angus. This post was for you.
