Monday, September 7, 2009

I dreamed that I went to see a doctor
whose office was in the middle of a department store.
I told her that I was having trouble with my right hand,
numbness, and she said that there was a new treatment
for that, and took out a giant meat cleaver.

"Put your hand right here," she said, and motioned
for me to lay my hand down on a, well, chopping block.
Then she whacked at my wrist once, twice, again,
until the hand fell off. OWWWWWW!

Then she gently put the hand back on again
and told me to be careful as it healed.
I asked her if she was going to tape it up,
and she said, no, just be careful
so it doesn't fall off.

The rest of the dream (which involved an estate
in Stanwood Washington, a barn, an auction, Mass,
Tom Jones, six skunks, salmon the size of sides of beef
smoking on a massive grill in a forest, shelves and shelves
of uninteresting books and women in plumed
and netted hats) I was anxious and terrified
that my hand would fall off and I'd lose the use of it.
There was a worried red line at my wrist,
but I awoke with my appendage gloriously intact.

This must be Labor Day anxiety, because my right hand
is essential for the work I do, and today's Labor Day,
and I'm headed off to work soon.


  1. T--What a night you had! I've always been envious of people who can remember their dreams, let alone dream in such depths of vividness--I guess this is the downside. Tom Jones AND six skunks? Some people have all the luck! WTF, indeed! And sorry you have to work on Labor Day.

  2. Robin, I wake up exhausted. WTF. And those are just a miniscule fraction of the details.

  3. Robin, she doesn't have to work on labor day, she actually wanted to!
    (setting the record straight, so rumors of horrible "boss" get nipped in the bud...)

    Besides, doesn't Labor Day mean labor?

  4. Well, my last night's vivid dream had to do with keeping an already born child inside some kind of pouch in my body, as another child was brewing in the womb. I kept forgetting from which area I should take out the live baby, to feed it, and at the same time avoid disturbing the "fetus".

    Not such a great dream to remember. I often wonder WTF -- and entertain the notion there might be a deep-seated purpose. (Besides empathy with the kangaroo...)

  5. Whoa linda. That was some dream! And yes, I think our dreams to speak to us with symbols, but it's also good to keep in mind that sometimes a dream is just a bunch of random images messing with us!

  6. Hi Melinda--as soon as i published my comment I thought holy crap! Melinda is going to think I'm dissing her. I happen to know you're a great boss and hey, you're still the best aerobics teacher EVAH!!

  7. Glad to know that someone else has weirdass dreams. One of my more boring ones this week was playing what seemed like a 20-minute virtuoso bongo solo. No skunks though. Or badgers.

  8. Blogalot: the absence of a badger in your dream clearly concerns me. Have you spoken to your mental health care professional about this?