Archive | June, 2017

Office Dream

5 Jun

I dreamed I was in an office space with at least two people, and one of them was a nerdy beanpole of a guy with an archaic sort of computer or adding machine. It looked like it was from the first half of the 20th century, much like the adding machine Uncle Buddy had in the garage. He was using this gadget to solve our problem, to calculate whatever. At some point I wondered why he didn’t use something else, a laptop, but I didn’t comment. Later in the dream, it was after dark and he was in the front seat of a car and still clicking away at the machine. If this was the U.S., then he was in the driver’s seat. The vehicle was pulled over to the side of the road, and I think it was a long 1970s car.

I don’t even remember what mystery we were attempting to solve. However, we succeeded with help from the adding machine. Aside from what he did on the machine, I was the one who solved it, but he helped a great deal.

I woke to Virginia meowing for my attention, and after petting her I dozed back to sleep and dreamed that I was telling at least one young female about the dream, and she wanted to know if the nerd was cute. I couldn’t remember.

This led to possibly the same dream, in which I was back in that office space and we were attempting to solve another mystery, and this time I paid more attention to the nerd and thought he was cute (he looked like the accountant in Ugly Betty), and I think I had a crush on him by the end of the dream.

One of those Mother Dreams

4 Jun

I had a dream in which I lived in what looked like a large and spotless house with my mother. I woke from a nap and i didn’t know where she was; I didn’t think she was home. I went to the living room–a very large and modern living room I think with white carpet–seems to me like the room was white and black in its color scheme. I lounged on a couch and munched on Oreo cookies while watching a quirky show about two young women living with their mother. The decor tended to change slightly depending on what projects they were working on. For instance, their kitchen had strings of onions hanging from more and more things–such as draped over the fridge and hanging from each side of it.

Though I assumed my mother was out, she appeared walking down a hallway to the living room, and I think another woman, a friend of hers, appeared, too. My mother (who didn’t look anything like my real mother, more like one of the beautiful and glamorous Indian actresses in this show about the Buddha I’ve been obsessively watching). She didn’t say anything or smile; her facial expression seemed aloof, and I felt ashamed of being caught idle on the couch and munching on junk food while watching tv. (I suppose watching tv wouldn’t have looked so bad if it had been a documentary.) She wore something glamorous that included a leopard print, and she looked like she had just taken a shower.

It just occurred to me that the Oreo cookies matched the black and white color scheme of the living room.

Since my parents passed away–my dad in May 2014, my mother in March 2016–I continue to have dreams in which they are still alive. My sister said, with considerable relief, that she no longer dreams about our parents.

Today it sounded like aliens were trying to communicate through the toilet, before it sound was singing birds. Perhaps there’s a nest in the attic. (That actually wasn’t a dream.)