Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Brain Betrayal

I had the most bizarre dream last night. I mean really bizarre. I dreamed that someone who has been like a mentor to me was a sex therapist. On the surface of it, this seems pretty innocuous, except this guy is one of the most above-board, honest, decent, ethical, spiritual people I know. But there he was, coming into his office and whipping off his undies for his, uh, client.

I don’t even want to know my sub-conscious put ME into the office as well since I was simply the observer – which makes my “ew” factor blow off the Richter scales. For godsakes, I so don’t want to imagine this man with his undies off. I don’t even want to imagine that he owns undies. And what kind of a sick puppy am I to even dream this bilge? Now I’m just grossing myself out, and it’s troubling because I have to see him this afternoon.


I’ve never encountered this before and have considered that I must have blown a few synapses during the night because I can’t get the image (or my grossed-out-ness) out of my head. Hubby blames it on the “creative mind.” Creative schmeative, I remember when he told me his dream where he took Phyllis Diller to dinner, and they ate two dozen oysters in her hot tub before she got out and did the mambo wearing nothing but oversized banana leaves. This from a finance guy.


What scares me is that a vivid dream has altered my entire view of my friend, and I’m looking forward to seeing him this afternoon about as much as I would a root canal with no drugs. I’m really quite put out with my subconscious mind right now because while I consider myself to be a pretty good writer, my acting skills rank along those of the entire new cast of 90210.


I could laugh it off and tell him, but I’m still too squidged out to think my brain would betray me in such a cruel manner. Besides, I’d die if he thought I have a latent onset of the warmies for him. I so don’t, and I get the squidgies all over again just thinking about it. Argh, there I go again…thinking.

Dear lord, why couldn’t I have dreamed about Antonio Banderas?


I’m in serious need of Reiki hugs. Lots. Of. Them.

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