Sunday, July 24, 2011

Dreams from this weekend

I'm not sure of the order or even when I had these dreams over the last couple of days, but here are some of the narratives:

My old personal trainer and new personal trainer had decided to both train me at the same time, but neither of them were being particular attentive and I was getting annoyed. By the end of the session, I said to them, I AM NOT PAYING FOR THIS SESSION.  One yelled, "YES YOU ARE."  And a chase ensued. I got away by going through a back entrance that read "trash compactor." I went down the elevator and the guy in charge of the trash compactor yelled at me and said, "Can't you read this is only for the trash compactor." I continued on my way as if I didn't hear him.

My brother and his friends (friends were unrecognizable) were renting a huge house somewhere east of Mishawaka Indiana and west of Elkhart, Indiana. The house was huge. My two nieces were there and my dad was there. My brother, my dad and I all drove separate cars. We were all leaving to get some food and I remarked how dumb it was that we brought three cars. Then I had forgotten something in the house. I ran back and was unsure which way to turn, left or right. I turned left, and then left, and then the road became treacherous, unfinished, under construction, etc. Panicked, I turned around and went back to the house. But then I went the same exact way and started on the treacherous road. I turned around and go to a train station. It turns out I was in Michigan. There was a marching band disembarking from the train, that I had just missed that would have taken me home. I go to cab and ask him to drive me to Mishawaka. The guy says, "no way, it's too far." The cab is from the 1950s. I told him I would pay him anything. He says ok, but then drives past me. I start walking, with the marching band, and see another cab. He agrees to take me. While we are driving I see a line of Hispanic men waiting for transportation to South Bend. I feel terribly guilty that I am in a cab while they are waiting.

I'm driving and there are huge snow drifts. I can't see anything. I turn off on Belmont off Lake Shore Drive and there is a family. Their windshield is cracked. There is a little girl in the back. The husband is on the cell phone. The wife is just looking worried. I have three blankets in my car. I offer them two of them. They touch the one that I don't want to give them (My Bubbie's blanket that she knit for me in 1976). I say, no take the other two. The wife wants to know how to get them back to me. I tell her not to worry about it. She wraps her daughter in the blanket and drives off.  I get to my place and go into an unfamiliar elevator. It turns out that it goes to my floor, but it's some sort of VIP elevator that I can't use, even though it goes to my floor. Annoyed, I go look for another elevator.

No comments:

Post a Comment