Thursday, February 21, 2008

more clothes complications

I had another nightmare-type dream last night that I was sure I was going to remember, but unfortunately I went back to sleep and it's been eclipsed with what I dreamed later.

In this later dream, I was back in school (high school?), and I was wearing a shortish plaid Catholic-schoolgirl type skirt. {It was actually a skirt I really had about ten years ago, and in reality it was a really nice wool skirt.} I don't remember much about the school scenario except that I had a turquoise velvet coat which I might or might not have had on the whole time (this becomes important later). We only had a couple of hours of classes because it was a holiday, and so around 11:00 I decided to go to the local art museum. It turned out to be more of a community center than anything else, with lots of people there that you wouldn't normally picture in an art museum--in fact, I don't remember seeing any art once I got inside, although they had a fair amount of children's play equipment. I wanted to go to the bathroom, but when I got inside all I could see were several homeless-looking men (just hanging out), so I started to leave, but an older woman (also just hanging out) called to me from the back that it was a unisex bathroom, and to come on in. I had taken my coat off and happened to look in the mirror; and I saw to my extreme alarm that in the bright sunshine my lavender underwear (and everything else) was showing right through the now-extremely-transparent skirt. Of course I found this highly disturbing, so I asked a couple of younger girls if they also could see through it--and sure enough, they could. This was really mortifying, and I tried to remember if I had taken the turquoise coat off when I was at school. At that point I noticed some familiar-looking clothes hanging neatly from pegs in the bathroom and realized that they were from a load of laundry I had put in the wash at the museum/community center a week earlier and forgotten about (they also apparently had laundry facilities!).

That was pretty much the end of the dream, except for a snippet where a three-year-old boy dashed between my legs to get to his cubbyhole. I'm sure that's extremely Freudian, but I'm not dwelling on it.


CëRïSë said...

It's amazing to me how even though I've obviously never had a dream quite like this, the general themes seem so familiar--especially things like clothes miraculously showing up because you'd "forgotten them earlier."

Curly Sue said...

I love the final paragraph the most. It's probably best not to dwell on any of this stuff too much.