Wednesday, May 6, 2009

sounds even more depressing than it was

Last night I dreamed that I was on vacation in Mexico with my husband (no reference to flu or drug warfare). We had recently arrived and we were at a gas station to gas up our rental car, some kind of big, new, fancy boatlike car. I went inside the convenience store and had a couple of encounters I can't remember with random dream people I can't remember. It took up some time, and I was getting anxious to get my snacks and get out of there when I ran into a lady from my parents' church. She's a very talkative lady in real life, but not someone I ever knew very well. She started talking and talking, and pulled out a couple of hideously ugly brightly-colored handmade action figures. At least one of them was an ape in colorful clothing, and they were made of some sort of rubbery material that she had sculpted herself. I was a little grossed-out because you could see her fingerprints in the material (they couldn't be erased because it had "set"). She started talking about how she would love to sell them and had been thinking about trying etsy. I told her she should go for it, because who was I to crush her dreams, and besides, there could very well be a market for that sort of thing. She wanted to ask me a lot of questions about how selling on etsy worked, but I was getting anxious because my husband was making very impatient gestures from outside [the rental car had morphed into an older, dirtier, still-boatlike car and changed from black to white]. I was looking for something to write down a website address for her on, but didn't succeed because I had too many different objects in my hands.

I finally gave up and ran out of the store, but it was too late--my husband had given up and left without me. I was sad and frustrated and stressed, and somehow I ended up in a different car, driving home on a country road* because somehow in leaving with the rental car he had caused us to be in two different countries, and I was just going to miss the vacation and have to stay home until he got back.

*with hazardously slow drivers, just like my own route home except more extreme. I had to dodge 25-mph-ers like it was a video game.

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