I’m starting this day at a definite disadvantage.  My mind is fully occupied with what might have been the weirdest nights sleep I’ve ever had.  Do you dream on a regular basis? Do you remember your dreams? I do.  I’ve always looked forward to those nights where the dreams never stop coming and one weird thing after another keeps occurring.

I’ve spent a great deal of time over the years attempting to understand my dreams and even have gone so far as waking up in the middle of the night to write down specific things that I wanted to be sure to remember. They seem to fade so quickly once we awaken which always pisses me off a little.  It’s amazing to me just how much information must be retained by our subconscious. It’s said we humans only use ten percent of our brains in a normal day but I disagree with that.  We may only access ten percent of the brain but I think the remaining ninety percent is just a huge storage area for all of the things we’ve ever seen, heard or thought about.  During dreams the subconscious accesses those memories in bizarre and strange ways and we’re allowed to see them as dreams.  It’s like our own personal weird and screwy home theatre.

Last night I was in a place where fences were everywhere and access was only permitted by the proper authorities.  I was keeping company with a young women who I recognized as Kathy, my very first girlfriend from fifty years ago  and also my first memorable wet and sloppy French kiss. I have to say she was looking pretty good with long slinky hair (which she never had), a pair of extremely tight Capri pants (which she never wore), and a real “come and get me attitude” (which she did have).  We were trying to get out of this fenced area in which we were imprisoned and we worked hard but made no headway.  We wanted very much to make our escape and get to Creighton, PA.  That’s a small, dirty and disgusting little town where my father worked for forty years.  In real life I wouldn’t even want to drive through the place let alone take a girl there.  Oh well, it’s my dream and I’ll figure it out someday, I hope.

This was unfortunately not a sex dream.  I could use a few more of those, but I digress.  Kathy and I, hand in hand, were climbing fences and running and hiding through most of this dream. At one point we ran into an odd assortment of people who were also looking for a way out.  The leader of that group just happened to be my former high school Art teacher who for some reason had a full head of hair.  I never knew him with hair but that’s beside the point I guess.

We found our way into an abandoned building located along a stretch of railroad tracks where we stopped to rest. We were milling around so I stepped to a window to look out at the railroad tracks.  This is where the dream began to slowly become a nightmare.  Just outside the window sitting on a folding chair was my ex-wife, knitting a sweater.  Let me try and figure this out; my first girlfriend, my high school Art teacher, and my ex-wife.  The dream appeared to be going south in a hurry.

We then arrived together in a large parking lot where dozens of weird little cars were parked in long straight rows.  A booth was set up where a person could get a car if they had the proper paperwork and money.  Just show the your papers (which I of course couldn’t find) and pay the fee (which I didn’t have).  I reached into my pocket and found a small round gold object and handed it to the guy in the booth who just happened to be someone I roomed with in college.  I never liked him all that much in real life and he was about to get even.  He refused to give me a car.

Kathy stepped up, took the coin, and bribed the moron and was finally given a car.  Apparently my gold coin was worth a lot more than I thought because she was given three boxes filled with smaller gold coins as change from the transaction.  As we prepared to leave an obvious problem had to be dealt with first.  There were at least six of us and three boxes of gold and those stupid little square shaped cars only held two people each. What to do?

It was at this point that I was angrily awakened by my distended bladder who was screaming for me to find a bathroom, not Creighton, PA.  So I left Kathy and the others in the parking lot with that weird little car and all that gold and returned to reality. 

How can my day not get better than that?