Dream Journal: What kind of apocalypse is this?

I’m on a school bus with some people that are supposed to be my family. I have a strong attachment to the little girl calling me mommy so let’s assume she’s my cousin. We drive the bus off a pier and into a marina to escape the danger no one has explained to me yet (seems like a major plot point).

But get this, there are other buses and trucks who threw themselves into the water to safety. So not only is this a stress dream on an apocalypse level but I’m also stressed about the traffic.

My brother suggests opening the windows so we can escape when it begins to sink, but we all agree no one wants to get wet.

This then shifts to another dream (stay with me people). I’m at a friend’s family home for Easter weekend (my internal calendar is a little off) when tons of people start piling through the front door.

I’m trying in vain to introduce myself to them but I can’t seem to shake their outstretched hands. (You know when you rest your arm behind your head to prop yourself up, or when you’re going for a nice overhead shoulder stretch? Visualize with me.) Well, my arm was stuck behind my head and all I could do was wave to them from around my ear. I wasn’t making any friends with this move.

Soon enough I realize we’re all piled into this house because it’s the end of the world (plot twist) and apparently they have a hell of a lot of food. Some bitch asks if we had any fat-free products and we throw her out of the house. We throw another guy out for wanting a protein shake.

Someone goes crazy at the idea of being stuck with us losers for the end of his days and charges at the front door breaking the glass and his body. People trample over him to freedom to find that the sky is blood red and mutant ninja turtles are running rampant. (Were they the good guys or bad guys in this situation? We’ll never know.)

This dream has way too many pop culture references.

We all go back inside to some kind of prayer circle and I become Katniss from the Hunger Games. Naturally, I go to the lingerie store inside the mansion to pick out my leather outfit.

While I’m getting fitted this lady I met in the prayer circle (who thinks she’s my friend but I actually can’t stand her) approaches me with a small posse and tells me they’re witches. (This apocalypse is doing too much.)

Anyway, our minds descend to a new realm where smiley faces are drawn on the ground but they’re actually wizards. The top dog (the smiley face with a beard drawn on it) tells the others they need to steal humans’ eyes. One smiley face with googly eyes drawn on it (named Greg) is called out.

“Greg, hand over the eyes, we all know you have a pair,” bearded face said.

“What? Eyes? Psh! I can’t see what you’re talking about,” Greg said.

“Greg, you are literally making ‘seeing’ references. You only do that if you have eyes,” bearded face said. (He made a good point.)

I was then brought back down to Earth/Katniss’s body where I was struck blind by the witches. They then mess up my hair like high school bullies. It wasn’t out of character for them.

Then I woke up.

And guess what? My arm was asleep under my head while I slept and the whole awkward encounter in the middle of my dream made sense.

Thank god, I thought I was just weird.

Dream Journal: Hot & layered

I have strange dreams. Dreams that range from a zombie apocalypse to rides in funky spaceships (disco themed). All nightmares. I assumed everyone experienced nightly nightmares, but I found out it is actually a symptom of anxiety in adults (the joy). Anyways, some of them are actually entertaining to the conscious mind.

For example last night I had a sex dream. Before you get all hot and bothered let me explain what exactly happened. As I was about to straddle my lover I realized I was incredibly warm. I looked down and I had on like ten layers of clothes, including a winter coat.

Every time I tried to remove a layer another would appear like a magician pulling scarves out of his sleeve, except nothing like that.

Get it? It’s from the show The Magicians. I admit this metaphor is doing too much.

 

My lover tried in vain to undress me both to our sweaty demise. Did I mention in this dream we were also in a loft so due to my proximity to the ceiling I couldn’t sit up all the way? This created a stressful claustrophobic experience on its own. Leading to more sweat. In one last attempt, I struggled with a parka only to roll off the loft and be jolted awake.

Sexy? Psh, in my dreams.