Today: The tire factory? Again?
[tweetmeme source=”elizabethev” only_single=false]When I was little, I had a recurring nightmare about a tire factory. If you’re, like, a psychologist, please feel free to have a field day with this one. It seemed like I had this dream nearly every time I was sick, which frankly, was fairly often. I missed most of kindergarten due to never-ending case of strep throat. This is why I can’t do math. Or share. Or nap. Or clean up after myself.
Though some bits and pieces of the nightmare changed, I always awoke immediately after being yelled at by the tire factory supervisor, who was perched atop what looked like a giant KitchenAid stand mixer. It seemed I was perpetually late to drop off my tire, having spent too much time checking out the decorations that my neighbors had set in their windows. Not normal. As if all of this wasn’t totally weird already… Years later (in real life), I was helping my mother move my grandmother into her new assisted living facility and stopped in my tracks after rounding the corner of her hallway.
Beside each doorway was a small shelf, where each resident had set out their own decorations. Some shelves had statuettes and figurines, others, framed pictures or vases of flowers. I had been dreaming about this exact place as a child. (As far as I know, my grandmother has not been put to work at a tire factory, but really, who knows?) Terrifying, right?
I stopped dreaming about tires and overbearing bosses some time during high school, and thought that was the end of it. Apparently most people grow out of their recurring dreams and nightmares when they’re young. Apparently, I am not most people. A few months ago, I started having a dream about driving. I have a valid Massachusetts driver’s license and a semi-reliable automobile, so I suppose this isn’t much of a stretch.
Unfortunately, the dream always ends with my car (and subsequently, me) flying off various bridges, cliffs and overpasses. By some miracle, I survive every crash unharmed, and spent the rest of the dream looking for my stupid car. A few nights ago, I dreamed that my car crashed near the Bunker Hill monument in Charlestown, yet I landed at the Cape, where I labored to explain to my bewildered parents why I was one place, but my Focus was elsewhere. Really. Not normal.
Naturally, the more I have this dream, the more freaked out I become. Not freaked out enough to take public transportation with the common people, but close. Instead, I decided to do what any other college-educated, reasonably intelligent lady would do, and went straight to Google.
I am relieved to find out that (if I skip over all the negative interpretations, obvi) I am not crazy, I’m just a person who gets things done. And a careless driver. Plus, I’m–you know– someone who can bounce back from adversity. Or whatever.
Also On Tap for Today:
- Hitting the boxing gym hard this week 🙂
- Confirming travel details for the marathon (aaaaaah!)
- Love these ideas for turning your kitchen into a beauty cabinet
Do you have recurring dreams? Or plain ol’ weird ones?
