Whining, Wine-ing & Winning

This one isn’t a term paper. I don’t have the scholastic aptitude to dive into Sigmund Freud’s dream analysis or decode what dreams about colors, animals, shapes, or floating margaritas might mean. I’m here to do the same ol’ strange blog.

In all my weirdness, I wanted to see if others dream the same way I do… or if I’m a whack job.

I’m only writing about a few of these night traumas because I like to keep things short and sweet. There may be time for more chaos another day. However, these seem to be the most common for me.

Dream One: Trying to Run

It CANNOT be done.

Especially when you’re in danger… or trying to get away from something terrifying.

You’re running, but it feels like cinder blocks are tied to your feet like flip-flops, and your legs are moving in slow motion.

The nasty thing — or person — is chasing you, yet you can’t move.

Dream Two: The Restaurant Apocalypse

If you work — or have ever worked — in a restaurant, you know this one.

It’s slow. You’re chatting with coworkers when suddenly you’re the only one working. The bartender is gone. The cooks are gone. Management is definitely gone. Even the host dipped, and there’s a line out the door.

Perfect.

You decide you’ll start at table one and work your way around.

Every notepad is filled with random scribbles. Your pen is running out of ink. It’s fine — you know the menu like the words to Bohemian Rhapsody. You can memorize the orders…

…except there is no one to cook them.

So you just sweat and get the look from everyone.

Now there’s no ice.

The Pepsi is making that dying noise.

And the Bud Light keg just blew.

When will it stop?

Former servers everywhere just felt their blood pressure rise.

You wake up in a sweat and realize, thank God it wasn’t real… then drift back to sleep and remember:

you forgot Karen’s ranch.

Shit.

But no bad Google review, no manager lecture, no write-up — because it was only a dream.

So you fall back asleep…

…and the dream picks right back up where you left off.

This wasn’t even a dream. It’s called Friday night — except everyone is actually there working.

Dream Three: Where Are My Pants?

The real question is: where are my pants… my underwear… and my dignity?

I typically don’t hang out in public streaking like Frank the Tank, but tonight here I am walking up to get my movie ticket or checking out at the grocery store.

Why is no one concerned? Are they avoiding eye contact because it’s awkward, or because I’m terrible to see naked?

I’ve been eating right and working out — I want you to look… but also please don’t make it weird.

Don’t mind me while I wait for Tina to ring up the items in my cart, which ironically include clothes.

Other times, when I’m not missing my pants, I have what I call the WTF shower.

Suddenly the shower is in the closet, on the bed, in the kitchen, or outside in the kiddie pool. There are no walls. Everyone can see me. And somehow it’s just… normal life.

Dream Four: Teeth Falling Out

I brushed, flossed, rinsed, and drifted off to sleep.

Why is my tooth loose?

I wiggle it with my tongue and feel gaps between the others. Why is it jagged? Why are ALL of them suddenly following Timmy the Tooth into rebellion?

Why am I trying to put them back in my mouth like no one will notice they’re gone?

Maybe I should finally go to that dentist appointment that’s three weeks overdue.

Dream Five: The Missing Car

It’s a foggy night and I’m leaving high school — at the age of 43. After spending the day forgetting my class schedule and locker combination, I step outside and now my car is missing.

And it’s not even my current car. It’s the 2006 Pontiac Grand Prix I drove in my late twenties.

I hit the lock button. Nothing happens. No beep. No flashing lights.

I parked next to the cart return… or the light pole… or possibly in handicapped by accident.

Why is it so dark? Why are there choirs singing in the background? Why does this parking lot feel so sketchy?

Maybe dreams are just our brains trying to sort through stress… or the fear of not knowing our future while still holding on to our past.

If you’ve ever tried to run in slow motion, been abandoned during the dinner rush from hell, or lost your teeth, pants, vehicle, or dignity…

welcome to my world.

We can be friends here.

Tonight I’m hoping to wine-d down into a dreamless sleep — or at least one with a full staff, a full mouth, and my car with a full tank of gas.

Sweet dreams.

And if you see that bitch Karen…

tell her her ranch is in the window.