Frustration of Dreams
It's Sunday and I am awake waaaaaay too early--primarily because I had to pee, but what woke me to the realization that I had to pee was waking from a strange and frustrating dream.
I can't remember all the ins and outs of it, but it was long and detailed (they usually are).
Somewhere in the middle I was lurking around my grandmother's house in Geneva. It was way early, like it is now, and I thought they were all probably sleeping in there. So I crossed the front yard and went around to the garage in the back. I was hungry--I was hoping she'd feed me. (SHe usually did.)
When I got to the back, I noticed that the bottom of her garage door was bowed out and had lots of little pin-holes in it--the kind that cats make when they stick their claws in something or chew on it. The garage door was made of a pale gray vinyl--about the color of the interior doors of my car. I knelt down to have a closer look, and the surface of the driveway was made of the same odd vinyl--and it was like it was upholstered! It even had those little upholstry buttons like they do on vinyl arm chairs. Somehow I toppled over onto my face and it was like I was suddenly unable to move or rise up again. I lay there thinking I had to get up because I couldn't lay in the driveway--what if someone backed the car out? I'd be run over, and that would hurt.
The only way I could get up was to cling to the side of the house and pull myself up. When I was back on my feet, I opened the garage door about a foot and waited for my cousin's cats to come shooting out--I just knew they were in there. But they didn't come out.
So I raised the plastic door and was about to step in when a really heavy metal door slammed shut right in front of me. My thought was, "Whoa! I'm lucky I didn't walk under that just when it went--it would have killed me." Getting that heavy metal door shut was hell. It was sprung or something, and it pulled down like one of those screens or old roll maps they used to have when I was in high school--it unrolled to the very end, but wouldn't roll up again. I kept thinking that Grandma would be pissed and I would have to listen to her bitch about it for years. "You broke my garage door!" No, it was broke before I touched it.
Eventually, after much effort, I got it up. I went into the garage and my cousin Roger strolled out, did not acknowledge me, got in his car, and left.
*blank*blank*blank*
(I don't remember what came next)
Then I was at my parents' old farm. I was in my sisters' bedroom and Joni let me look at her book of paperdolls. I carried it off with me and then I didn't have it any more and I had no idea where it was. I thought, "Great, I lost her stupid paper dolls. Now she'll be pissed."
In my room, I had a bunch of stuff packed to go somewhere. It seems like I was going off to college. Though I didn't have a clue where I'd be living and I had NO MONEY. heheheeh.
Suddenly I realized that I had left my car unlocked and my new laptop was lying in the back seat. In the dream the car was brand new too--quite a feat for someone who had no money!
I patted my pocket and realized I had my keys, so that was okay.
But when I went outside, I discovered my car was not where I had parked it. Relatives were everywhere out there, sitting on lawn chairs or on the ground. There was a big lake over a rise where some people were lounging on the sand or wading. My dad and uncle Jerry were sitting up on the top of the rise in lawn chairs on a blanket. I figured my dad had either moved my car or had someone else do it. So I went up and asked him where it was. As usual, he wouldn't tell me anything, just did that annoying haw-haw-haw laugh of his. Meanwhile, Jerry made comments in his sarcastic, "I'm-so-superior Republican Born-Again Christian" way.
I said, "Come on, it isn't funny. I want my computer."
My dad made some comment about how it was gone.
And Jerry threw in a little snark: "That's the great thing about living in America--there are lots of resources available."
I said, "Lots of resources for YOU, maybe. I don't have many goddam resources."
The my dad grabbed me and started doing something to my face. It's hard to explain--it's like he was pinching my cheeks together or squeezing my head someway. It didn't hurt, but it was uncomfortable and he would not stop. (Just like real life--except what he did always hurt.)
I struggled and kept whining, "Daaaad. Stooop it. DAaaaaad! Cut it out!"
That just made him laugh. (Just like real life.)
I wanted to bite him, but I couldn't reach his fingers--and I knew if I did bite him, he would hurt me.
It was such a powerless, hopeless feeling.
Total frustration.
My impulse was to yell for my mother, but long experience told me that THAT would be about as useful as whistling Dixie.
He has been dead close to ten years--and he still comes back in my dreams to torment me from time to time.
Sigh.
The legacy continues.
Ah well.
At least I am awake now. hehehehe.
He can't get me when I'm awake.
And the upshot is that I woke up starving. I want some waffles!
I can't remember all the ins and outs of it, but it was long and detailed (they usually are).
Somewhere in the middle I was lurking around my grandmother's house in Geneva. It was way early, like it is now, and I thought they were all probably sleeping in there. So I crossed the front yard and went around to the garage in the back. I was hungry--I was hoping she'd feed me. (SHe usually did.)
When I got to the back, I noticed that the bottom of her garage door was bowed out and had lots of little pin-holes in it--the kind that cats make when they stick their claws in something or chew on it. The garage door was made of a pale gray vinyl--about the color of the interior doors of my car. I knelt down to have a closer look, and the surface of the driveway was made of the same odd vinyl--and it was like it was upholstered! It even had those little upholstry buttons like they do on vinyl arm chairs. Somehow I toppled over onto my face and it was like I was suddenly unable to move or rise up again. I lay there thinking I had to get up because I couldn't lay in the driveway--what if someone backed the car out? I'd be run over, and that would hurt.
The only way I could get up was to cling to the side of the house and pull myself up. When I was back on my feet, I opened the garage door about a foot and waited for my cousin's cats to come shooting out--I just knew they were in there. But they didn't come out.
So I raised the plastic door and was about to step in when a really heavy metal door slammed shut right in front of me. My thought was, "Whoa! I'm lucky I didn't walk under that just when it went--it would have killed me." Getting that heavy metal door shut was hell. It was sprung or something, and it pulled down like one of those screens or old roll maps they used to have when I was in high school--it unrolled to the very end, but wouldn't roll up again. I kept thinking that Grandma would be pissed and I would have to listen to her bitch about it for years. "You broke my garage door!" No, it was broke before I touched it.
Eventually, after much effort, I got it up. I went into the garage and my cousin Roger strolled out, did not acknowledge me, got in his car, and left.
*blank*blank*blank*
(I don't remember what came next)
Then I was at my parents' old farm. I was in my sisters' bedroom and Joni let me look at her book of paperdolls. I carried it off with me and then I didn't have it any more and I had no idea where it was. I thought, "Great, I lost her stupid paper dolls. Now she'll be pissed."
In my room, I had a bunch of stuff packed to go somewhere. It seems like I was going off to college. Though I didn't have a clue where I'd be living and I had NO MONEY. heheheeh.
Suddenly I realized that I had left my car unlocked and my new laptop was lying in the back seat. In the dream the car was brand new too--quite a feat for someone who had no money!
I patted my pocket and realized I had my keys, so that was okay.
But when I went outside, I discovered my car was not where I had parked it. Relatives were everywhere out there, sitting on lawn chairs or on the ground. There was a big lake over a rise where some people were lounging on the sand or wading. My dad and uncle Jerry were sitting up on the top of the rise in lawn chairs on a blanket. I figured my dad had either moved my car or had someone else do it. So I went up and asked him where it was. As usual, he wouldn't tell me anything, just did that annoying haw-haw-haw laugh of his. Meanwhile, Jerry made comments in his sarcastic, "I'm-so-superior Republican Born-Again Christian" way.
I said, "Come on, it isn't funny. I want my computer."
My dad made some comment about how it was gone.
And Jerry threw in a little snark: "That's the great thing about living in America--there are lots of resources available."
I said, "Lots of resources for YOU, maybe. I don't have many goddam resources."
The my dad grabbed me and started doing something to my face. It's hard to explain--it's like he was pinching my cheeks together or squeezing my head someway. It didn't hurt, but it was uncomfortable and he would not stop. (Just like real life--except what he did always hurt.)
I struggled and kept whining, "Daaaad. Stooop it. DAaaaaad! Cut it out!"
That just made him laugh. (Just like real life.)
I wanted to bite him, but I couldn't reach his fingers--and I knew if I did bite him, he would hurt me.
It was such a powerless, hopeless feeling.
Total frustration.
My impulse was to yell for my mother, but long experience told me that THAT would be about as useful as whistling Dixie.
He has been dead close to ten years--and he still comes back in my dreams to torment me from time to time.
Sigh.
The legacy continues.
Ah well.
At least I am awake now. hehehehe.
He can't get me when I'm awake.
And the upshot is that I woke up starving. I want some waffles!
