August 14, 2015

I Bore Myself Awake

Once I had a dream that I was waiting in line.  It was so boring that I woke up.  Just last night, I was forced awake because the plot of my dream went nowhere.  If I was a fiction writer, you would probably be asleep by now.  (The ghost of O. Henry just gave me a high-five.)  

Recurring dreams tend to be unoriginal.  Mine is the Billy Madison-like one, but I can't figure out how to go to classes.  Maybe because I'm Native, but probably because I'm kind of balmy, dream interpretation makes sense to me.  In this case, I feel anxious because I can't catch up with my peers.

Yeah, I'm thirty-five, and have never been married or pregnant.  Yeah, I'm still trying to figure out the name of the career that I'm pursuing (more on that later).  The first two are on me though because I'm way too nice and let men know right away that I'm smothering and idealistic.  (You're welcome.)   Funny how I've never worried about that pushing away friends.  I think they interpret it as genuine care and acceptance, at least, I hope so.  

What I'm saying is, I'll grow up at forty, and thank you for being my friend even though I'm smothering.  Also, yes, I'm idealistic, but I do see your flaws- I just don't care about them.  Because I don't want to.    

As a treat, here's a reel of my most boring dreams:  
What did the snail say on the back of the tortoise?  "Weeee!" -Nathan Malachowski