My sleeping habits lately have been quite puzzling. I wake up and feel achy, like I've had my ass kicked by a legion of ninjas. I've found a couple of bruises that can't be explained, as well, which adds to my ninja theory.
And then! The dreams! Jesus CHRIST, the dreams! The past three nights I've had some really random dreams.
Night #1: I could fly. Like Superman, but without the tights or cape. ("No capes! -Edna, The Incredibles) I was all zoomy and loving it. Somehow I flew down south to the bayous of Louisiana, where the Backstreet Boys were having an outdoor concert. I arrived halfway through the concert and landed on stage, where Backstreet Boy (um, man since they are all, like over 25 now?) Kevin proceeded to kiss me. Not that I'm complaining. Then I went to get fried chicken with some of my friends for Northern.
My interpretation: The flying means that I'm free or that I long to be free. And flying "down south" means that maybe it's time for a change. Making out with a Backstreet boy means that I'm horny. And listening to their music too much. (I can't help it, though! Their new cd is so good!)
Night #2: I was riding in the back of a light yellow pickup truck that was speeding down the highway. In slow-motion I see a car hit the truck, which tears the truck in half. My half sails across the highway--still in slow-motion--and I get the zen-like feeling that things will be alright. The truckbed and I land in the ditch; I pass out. I wake up in the hospital and everyone treats me like I'm made of spun glass. I then scheme to break out of the hospital.
My interpretation: I'm no good at symbolism, but the zen feeling I had means that things will work out in my currently crazy situation. The way my friends and family treated me in the hospital could reflect the way that I think they're treating me now in my "delicate" state of mind, even though I realize that's in my head. And me wanted to break free means...just that.
Night #3: I was downstate in Joe's house, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead the house was more of a residential hall (hi, will Res-Life always be with me?) where I helped students out. Some of them were athletes. One "needed" my help. All either of us wanted to do, really, though was make out. But I resisted because he was a resident. It was hard because he had the most gorgeous lips ever. Then I went to another level of the house, where there were a bunch of snobbish, sorority girl types flitting about, fretting about the Black Tie Ball. I got caught up in the hype and starting worrying that I didn't have a date because I couldn't go without a date! OMGLOL!!!111!!11!1! I went to the dry cleaner to get my dress and ended up running off with a guy who was there picking up a tux for his wedding.
My interpretation: I need to retrieve my dry-cleaning. And I need to make out. Badly. Also? I hate sorority type girls. Did I mention I need to make out?
Ciao, dahling!
~*Krissy*~