Sometimes I feel like my subconscious is just thumbing its nose at me. Just before the alarm went off this morning I had a dream that was both an Important Life Lesson Dream and one in which I was completely out of character.
I had some errand to do that involved waiting in line at a post office-like place. It was some kind of national holiday: the lines were extremely long because of all the people off work, and there were hordes of fresh-faced teenagers around (all preternaturally pretty) in gray and black school uniforms oddly reminiscent of Confederate army uniforms. I saw that the line was long, but people weren't pouring in at that point to add to it, so I decided to browse their magazine selection and find something to read while waiting (the P.O. has a magazine selection?). For some inexplicable reason I wanted to read a specific men's magazine with an article about that horror movie Paris Hilton was in (?!)*. The cover of the magazine was really neat--it was a wraparound photo of an elaborate peach-colored paper sculpture.
When I had gotten my magazine, I saw to my dismay that many more people had crowded in and the line was all the way out the door. Confused and disturbed, I skulked over to where the end of the line had been when I came in (where I had hesitated briefly before heading off to the magazines). There was a group of friendly-looking young people there, and I commented to one of the girls that I had left there to get a magazine and that now that the line was so long I wasn't sure what to do. She said cheerfully, "you can't get in the back of the line now--you'll die! Just get in somewhere.", and then turned away (still cheerfully, not offering to let me in the line with them)**.
So there I was, standing there with hordes of Confederate-garbed teenagers swarming around me. I looked down at my pants, which were pink wool tweed and wide-legged, and realized that the outside seams at the bottom were ripped, creating two vertical strips. For lack of a solution to the waiting-in-line problem, I turned my attention to the pants problem and decided to tie the ripped tabs together (on each leg--the point was not to hobble myself), which I thought created a jaunty, inventive and post-modern effect. I planned to start a thread about it on a crafty website forum. The title was to be: "HAHAHAHA! This thread is totally pointless! Ignore it at your peril, b*tches!")***
To add insult to injury, when I had woken up and was shaking my head over this ridiculous and annoying dream, the part of my brain responsible for choosing background music suddenly burst into a rousing rendition of "The Age of Aquarius"****, complete with backup singers. I had people doing *jazz hands* in my head! Before 5 a.m.! I'm so annoyed with my brain.
*This is the first thing that was completely out of character for me--or do I have some deep love for Paris Hilton and horror movies that I just can't admit?
**This is the Important Life Lesson part, and unfortunately not out of character for me. Instead of being proactive and asking them to hold my spot before looking for the magazine, I was vague, non-confrontational, and passive-aggressive.
***This is the other thing that was completely out of character for me. I can only imagine saying something like that under the influence of powerful psychoactive drugs.
****I blame this on having heard that a Mother Ship is due to land today and usher in a new era of interplanetary cooperation and peace.