I HAD A DREAM…

(I feel like linking that title to this post has set the civil rights movement back like 83 years. Sorry MK. Yeah I call him Martin King, because we be close, we be close)

Anyway

I don’t dream too often, and when I do they aren’t of much substance, I don’t think. I usually don’t remember them. I think my dreams are pretty typical. I have the random people hanging out dreams, then I have the good, happy dreams that you wake up too early from and try to go back to sleep because you are convinced that your brain just hit the pause button and it will resume, but it doesn’t. Instead you have this nightmare where someone is in your bedroom and they are about to shave your head with a sharp knife. You abruptly wake up to find that you are now in a waking dream and you can feel the assailant laying on top of you and you try to get up but your entire body is literally paralyzed, you feel him stroke your head with the knife once before you regain control of your body. You stay up the rest of the night and research what just happened to you and learn all about waking dreams and sleep paralysis.

Oh and then I have the really, really, really good dreams where I  wake up a millisecond before it was going to get really, really, really GREAT. Every time. I wake up EVERY. TIME.

Every once in a while though I have a disturbing dream, like a “I should seriously question myself about myself.” dream. It’s the dream where I should look up what it means, but let’s be honest I’m too lazy to do that.

Here are two dreams I had last night that I need to tell you about because I tried to tell my therapist and he reminded me that he had severed our relationship a month ago because things got weird between us...

Dream 1 – Cat Scratch

I’ve always hated cats. They are sinister and can pounce without any warning. A friend of mine has a cat that is scared of humans and runs away every time you get close to it. It will come up to people it’s familiar with though. I, being a person that needs and thrives on acceptance, (no matter what kind of species, no matter animate or inanimate) CRAVEDDD acceptance from this pussy. (ew. sorry.) Slowly but surely, the more I came around, the less fearful of me it became.

I learned you can’t make any sudden movements and all you need to do is get your hand, palm facing up, on its spine, pet it and then its putty. Sometimes it meows, sometimes it makes these weird murmur sounds that make me uncomfortable, but I do and accept anything for to be accepted...

We be presh. We be fresh 2 def presh.

This cat was one of the things that helped me to open up to the idea of cats being aight (the other two were cat YouTube videos and cat GIFs)…

We got close, supes close...

My dream last night, helped remind me of the fear that I had repressed that society’s cat culture thought they had successfully buried forever.

I was in a room with a group of people, just kicking it and here comes the cat. It’s my friend’s cat, I can tell because I could pick that face out of a lineup of dogs. I saw the cat and played it cool like,

“Come to me if you want, or don’t. It’s whatevs. I don’t care what  you do.”

Secretly though, I was all like,

“PLEASE COME OVER TO ME AND LET ME PET YOU. ACCEPT ME! PLEASE!”

The cat hopped onto the couch I was sitting on. I did the thing that I’ve done the previous seven times before it let me touch it,  I turned my palm face up and pet its spine.  Its spine rose like it always did, which actually also makes me uncomfortably. I stopped and it made this sound that I thought was “Hey, you’re in, pet me again, I dig it.”

This is when everything went wrong.

I got too comfortable. I went to stroke again, but this time I went in with my palm facing  the cat. I was coming towards its face like I was going to snap its head.  Just as I  probably would have done in that situation too, the cat quickly stood on its two hind legs. I pulled my hand away but not soon enough because its front paw and claws came down onto and into my hand like Thor’s hammer. I immediately went into a state of shock.  No sound or movement came from me, even if I wanted it to.

The cat left its claws in me as to show dominance over me. I then remembered that we weren’t the only two in the room and I looked around. Nobody had noticed that any of this was going on, which is an entire other fear I have which will be saved for a later blog date.  Everyone looked to be enjoying themselves so I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to ruin their fun just because I was in a life or death situation.

The cat and I just stared at each other, until I think it could tell by my eyes that I was accepting defeat. The cat finally gave and took its claws out of my hand. The marks it left looked more like Wolverine’s child did it than this cute (well used to be cute) cat. I stood up, held my hand up as blood began to pour from the wounds, like pour, pour, like a “Chandra bloody nose without the blood clot” pour . Everyone finally took notice and their mouths dropped open. I was just staring at my hand, I passed out. That’s when I woke up. 

Now I hate cats again.

But ughhhhhh, cats be cute, cats be s'cute

"I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed..."

Dream 2 – No Need For Chris Hansen to Get Involved Here. No Need

The second dream I had last night, I don’t remember the details, I just remember the most disturbing part. I think I was with my friend and her family in some kind of vacation home. I was sitting in the living room and behind me was the kitchen and my friend’s daughter (who is under the age of 18, fine... 16, okay...10…ugh... she’s 4) was sitting on top of the counter, her cousin came in and went to sit next to her. He started to kiss her on her lips.  YOU GUYS IT’S NOT THAT BAD, RIGHT?! I mean, there wasn’t any tongue, or anything! He would like kiss her stop, kiss her stop and so on. Almost like a Disney Channel kiss (a Nickelodeon kiss is too PG). I turn to see this, I go “What is happening?” and think to myself “I should stop this.” I then woke up.

I would love to think and love you to think that if I hadn’t woken up, I would have broken up the kissing cousins. Even though I’m not her godmother (over it, totes. Over it) I still feel a social responsibility towards leading kids down the right path and not kissing blood related family members. I mean family members in general, obvi.

I think the worst part of this was that for some reason, I decided that I would text my friend and tell her about the dream, which she then replied back with,  “Ummm, I dunno what to say.”  I explained that there was no tongue and I would really appreciate if she would allow me to still be in her daughter’s life. She laughed (if text had tone, I would assume the laugh was a  nervous, awkward one) and that was the last I’ve heard from her today.

Dreams, guys…pffft…what do they even mean…pfft, their just figments of pfffttt… ehhuhhahhhhughhh pfffffffttttttt.