Bad Dreams

I wish I would’ve written this dream down sooner as I would have been able to remember more of it earlier today. All I know is I woke up crying. I dreamt that Stan and I were driving around Fort Collins and going to the nursing home where my dad is, except my dad was a combination of two male coworkers that Stan works/ed with, one of whom reminded of Stan of my dad, and one of whom reminds Stan of a Faux News Giant Talking Head as KO would say. But this person was shorter and thinner and younger, like in his 50s. He had dark hair. Sometimes dreams are so strange that the situations simply can’t be explained. But I was in this giant pen, like a combination of boxing ring and a very large walker with big padding on the side. My grandmother was in the “ring” with me and arguing with me. She was taller than me…it was like she was 5’9″ or something…over a foot taller than I remember her in her old age. She reminded me of someone, but I can’t remember who…and it wasn’t my grandmother. Someone from school? college? My dad was mad at me too. Then I start to cry and explain my position (I can’t remember what they were mad at me about or what we were arguing about) and gradually my “dad”–or the weird little dark haired guy who didn’t look at all like my dad–starts to come around to my way of thinking, and he pats me on the back.

I have no idea what this dream was about, but I wake up crying.

I went back to sleep and had a very surreal dream about some ugly hippie guy walking around with a very odd erection. I had no idea who he was, or what the dream was about.

I wish I could remember more

About Ann

Painter, jewelry-maker, graphic designer, dingbat font creator, imagineer, progressive, liberal, Wisconsinite by birth and later by choice, dog and cat mom, sushi-lover and foodie.

2 thoughts on “Bad Dreams

  1. No I didn’t win. I woke up crying. My grandmother wasn’t on my side, but my “dad” was sort of coming around.

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