Such stuff as dreams are made of

6 Jun

I woke up at 2:45 this morning and then fell in and out of sleep until the alarm went off.

Every time I fell asleep, I returned to a long, weird dream set in a sprawling bar/restaurant of some kind. I seemed to move from one group of disparate people to another, joining the group for conversation and drinks, and then I’d wake up, fall asleep, return to this place and wind up with another group of people. Then someone from the previous group would show up and it would turn out everybody knew them. So the groups kind of overlapped.  There was a whole series of subplots linking all of these people and levels of intrigue, the details of which were lost on me when I awoke.

I wish I could explain this better, but it all relied on the kind of logic that holds dreams together and it doesn’t translate to the waking world. At least not my waking world.

This sprawling hangout was kind of dirty and the floor was wet. Why would we all hang out there? Most of the people I was interacting with are people I have never seen before. Every now and then a familiar face would show up and it would turn out that this person I know in real life, also knew this people I’d recently conjured up in my dream.

Another aspect of the dream was the ever popular dream-theme: Where’s my car?

When I wasn’t walking around the dirty, wet bar, I was wandering around outside, looking for my car in the parking lot. It was a dreary, rainy evening and the parking lot wasn’t paved. There were a lot of cars and the lot was muddy. No wonder the interior of the bar was so wet and dirty–we were all tracking in mud.

Never did find the car.

At one point my significant other showed up, but he slipped away as dream lovers often do. He left behind his cell phone and one of our drinking glasses.

Not sure why he brought one of our drinking glasses to the bar or why I was so certain it was our glass rather than a glass that belonged to this establishment, but I picked up the phone and the glass and began carrying them around. Then I realized the pearl colored cell phone (it was a flip phone) did not belong to my significant other. I opened it up and a movie was playing on the screen. I don’t know what the movie was, but all of the actors in it were Asian.

Since my significant other is not Asian, this confirmed that it was not his cell phone and it became imperative that I leave the cell phone in a strategic place in the bar. After I wandered around again, looking for the perfect spot, I finally found it–amidst piles of dirty glasses and plates just sitting on the bar. (Someone really needs to alert the Health Department about this place!)

Then I realized I had lost the drinking glass and was certain my significant other was going to be mad about that.

There was some guy in the dream who was sort of belligerent, yet there was sexual tension between us. Later, I caught a glimpse of him in the bathroom (actually, in the dream, I may have been spying on him) and I realized he was a woman, even though he clearly had a penis.

Calling Dr. Freud!

I have a friend who says her dreams wear her out and she swears she wakes up more tired as a result of all of her nocturnal dream activities. This may have been one of those dreams for me.

In the last scene of the dream I remember, I was with some young, blond, woman who seemed like a young professional, and my cell phone rang. “Why does my phone say 20/20 is calling me?” I asked her. She smiled and pointed. There was a crew from the TV show 20/20 filming a segment in the bar.

I haven’t watched 20/20 since Hugh Downs was on it, so what the heck is that about?

20/20 vision? Hindsight is 20/20?

I have no idea. There was a certain, boho, “this is a happening place” vibe that I got from this bar, while at the same time, I was tired and wanted to leave. Too bad I couldn’t find the damn car.

Somewhere inside of my head, I am still wandering around that place. Meanwhile, in the waking world, it is a rainy morning.

So, I’ll be driving to work. I’ll try not to track mud into the office. And hopefully when it is time to come home, I’ll be able to remember where I parked…

Happy Wednesday!

2 Responses to “Such stuff as dreams are made of”

  1. Pamela N Red June 7, 2012 at 8:13 am #

    I suspect your dream has a lot to do with your Coming Out Monologues if you analyze it a bit and look for the significance of each prop and scene setting in your dream.

  2. Mary Atwood June 7, 2012 at 9:20 am #

    I wonder if this somewho relates back to the night we went to Intuition? We parked in an unpaved “lot” of sorts and there were lots of people milling around in various groups and some of them were slightly familiar. But still, ………there is much of this that is just odd and amusing.

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