The good news is: I slept all night. The other news (it isn’t “bad” news): I had a dream that was so laden with messages from my unconscious (or Freudian, if you prefer) thinking that it could be considered comical, particularly by those who know me and my story, (Aside: the therapist with whom Jessie has been working for the past three years is so Freudian that I often call him, to his face, Sigmund. I never thought of myself as having a particular affinity to any psychological school of thought, but this dream may have officially changed all that.)
So here goes:
I was driving along an unfamiliar stretch of road (*#1) in Harrison’s car (#2) which, before such time as he earned his driver’s license, was my car (#3). It was a pretty-enough drive on a twisty, curvy and, in spots, stretch of road void of sun (#4). I was making my way, allowing the car to essentially drive itself (#5) while the radio played something from the seventies (#6). Without warning, I was briefly airborne before landing with a soft splash (one which was incongruent to the length of the plummet, I might add) into a huge reservoir or lake or pond or some such body of water (#7). I landed gently alongside a dinghy in which Sandra Bullock (#8?) was leisurely drifting while soaking up the sun and fresh breeze of what I consider a perfect weather day.
Bewildered, but not, by any means hysterical (#9), I looked to her and inquired as to where I was. She responded by shrugging her shoulders, slightly raising the edges of her mouth in a semi-smile and paddling herself away from the crash site. It was at that moment that panic started to overcome me as I realized that this enormous truck (don’t let anyone tell you that a Ford Expedition is an SUV – it is a truck) wasn’t going to stay above water much longer (#10). As I struggled to unfasten the seatbelt which was there to, theoretically, anyway, save me, (#11) I had the wherewithal to fumble through my handbag and retrieve my phone (#12) which I held in the air above my head as the truck and my clothing took on water (#13).
There was then an unaccounted for lapse of time during which I somehow managed to get out of the truck, seemingly on my own although I am quite sure I required and received assistance. I began to wander, in a fog (#14) discombobulated and aimless. “Aw, shit” I finally said aloud (#15). Apparently it was at that moment that I realized that we were now not only short a truck, but my car/house keys (#16), wallet (#17) and Target returns were going down with the wreckage.
I continued on my unchartered path (#18) as the world continued around me, apparently oblivious to the tonnage of steel I had just left to sink in the water (#19) when, seriously, out of nowhere, appeared a little boy, probably around ten (duh, #20!) who silently looked up at me and, with a wry smile handed me my keys (#21). Holy shit.
I awoke not with a start, but with an almost eerie calm. Glancing at the clock which has, in these wee hours of the morning, become thine enemy, I saw that it was an almost acceptable 5:45 a.m. at which point I tossed aside the covers, brushed my teeth and plopped myself down at my laptop in the hopes of managing to recall every highly nuanced moment of what was probably a three-minute dream.
*My take on the hidden (and perhaps, Freudian) meanings:
1. An unfamiliar stretch of road: Um, that one is fairly obvious.
2. Harrison’s car: Hmmm, who is driving?
3. Which, before such time as he earned his driver’s license, was my car: A changing of the guard? Oh, don’t tease me.
4. Twisty, curvy and, in spots, stretch of road void of sun.: Yep, that sounds about right.
5. Allowing the car to essentially drive itself: Relinquishing control…in every conceivable way?
6. Radio played something from the seventies: A return to my own childhood?
7. Huge reservoir or lake or pond or some such body of water: It has to be the womb…because what is unconscious/Freudian thinking without a womb mentioned here or there? The real question is, “to whom does this particular womb belong?”
8. Sandra Bullock: The only memorable (and by memorable I do not mean to suggest it was due to talent) line I can ever recall SB uttering was in one of her many forgettable roles in a movie called “The Net” when she said, “it happened to me, it can happen to you”…hmmm.
9. Bewildered, but not, by any means hysterical: I would consider that to be an apt description of most days for me.
10. Wasn’t going to stay above water much longer: I’m goin’ down.
11. Struggled to unfasten the seatbelt which was there to, theoretically, anyway, save me: Struggle which is overcome, yep, there’s Dr. Freud again.
12. Retrieve my phone: If nothing else, fulfilling my need to be able to communicate with someone, somehow, someway.
13. Took on water: I say taking on water, you say drowning. It is all semantics.
14. In a fog: Thick, opaque path?
15. Finally said aloud: Uncle!
16. I was not only down one truck, but my car/house keys: If that doesn’t indicate being stuck, I am not sure what does.
17. Wallet: see #17
18. Unchartered path: see #1
19. Left to sink in the water: see #4
20. Out of nowhere, appeared a little boy, probably around ten: Wow! No explanation necessary.
21. Handed me my keys: see #20
Clearly there were a whole slew of messages, thoughts and feeling trying to bust out while I slept and the irony is not lost on me that it was the first night in as long as I can recall that I actually slept through the night.
p.s. Since 21 is the age of adulthood, does anyone else read meaning into there having been twenty-one unconscious messages? Or am I officially losing it?