Are you the kind of person who gets dream hangovers? It’s when emotions are so strong in that movie behind your eyes that the specter of the feels carries on in your conscious thoughts long after you’ve had your first cuppa in the morning.
This is me. All the time. I wonder sometimes if it speaks of an unhinged psyche, but then other times I appreciate the overnight’s entertainment as provided by the sub-c.
Some people dream in color. I dream in emotions.
Anyway, so these two otherwise unrelated things happened this week. I finished a design process course at my local community college. And I had this weird dream.
Now let’s mesh these two together, shall we?
I now possess mad Photoshop skills, people. I’ve been schooled in the art. It doesn’t mean I’m good at it or anything, of course. But I found out what some of those buttons do, so I guess I can make a mess of things in less time. Hey, and I also know how to draw a vector image of a pair of athletic shoes, a skill that will get me jack little, I suspect. That, and I may never wear tennis shoes again. Hours upon hours, that project.
Ok, so then the other night, I have this dream. I’m so annoyed at the dogs, see. I can’t leave the keys in the car, because one of them will jump in and take off with my Toyota.
Darn it, you dogs.
It’s nothing but traffic, this place I live in my dream. Cars parked along the side of the road and you can’t possibly change lanes to make that left turn you wanted. One glance at the radio and you’ll sideswipe the guy next to you.
Micron had left a rooster tail of grass and sod running to the car when I got out last. He jumps in, grabs the wheel (think Subaru commercial) and peels out of the driveway.
Great, I think. A golden behind wheel. What can go wrong? I imagine irate phone calls, higher insurance rates, and grievous damage to my black, shiny car.
[We pause a moment here to admire the outstanding Photoshopped image above. No, not that I managed to put two photos together like that. It’s that the dog actually looks like he’s yelling out the window.]
My dog is awesome, y’all.
So, anyway worrying is like borrowing trouble from the future. The hand wringing was all for naught. I’m relieved to see Micron back in our drive with both he and the car’s bodies intact.
This reenactment photo, was not shopped, by the way. And Micron was thrilled to be in the driver’s seat IRL. I may have created a problem I didn’t have before.
But that wasn’t the end of the dream. As soon as Micron got out of the car, tongue lolling, the cat jumped in and burned rubber as he pulled into the street.
And I really liked that car.
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