Last night's dream, in a nutshell:
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| Help! I'm in a nutshell! Borrowed from hark.com |
I was in this really weird house. Everything was in sepia tones (not the first time this has happened for me. Apparently my dreams just adore shades of brown and cream.) So this house was Victorian style and almost had the layout of the Beetlejuice house: think of that for your basic mindset. Definitely had a tower sort of fixture. I was in this house and I was sleeping--how cruel that within your sleep you should be sleeping. At least let me do something exciting!--and I had woken up because I could hear something next to me. I frantically started smacking the pillows in my white metal frame bed (does this scream old style hospital to no one but me?) and heard something scream. I looked up and this man was watching me smack the crap out of my bedding. He began to tell me that I cannot find what I am looking for unless I truly know what it is that I am looking for. I racked my brain (see
here for why rack is correct and not wrack) but could not come up with what was in my bed. Meanwhile, my level of absolute terror is rapidly increasing, rendering me practically worthless to even think of the word for banana or bed. The thing in my bed continues to make twitchy movements within a pillowcase and no matter how hard I try, the pillowcase refuses to open and show me its contents. The man, who looks remarkably like the Genie from California Adventure's Aladdin stage show, is still watching me, laughing at my struggling. I start yelling at him what various options are of what is stuck in the pillowcase, because more than anything I just want it to be gone. "Mouse! Spider! Bird! Squirrel! RAT!" And then POOF he disappeared and the pillowcase opened: it was a rat.
I quickly shut the pillowcase again and ran to the garage to throw the rat outside. While carrying the pillowcase, the rat was gnawing through the material, attempting to pull off a great escape. I grabbed it by its tail and began to swing it around in circles, winding up for a great toss into oblivion that is the side yard. My mom is now by my side, encouraging me to just shoot the rat (suddenly there's a gun at my feet) but I tell her I'd rather he just roam free outside (who knows if he has a family or not!) I toss him into the side yard, certain he's going to sail through the night air for yards, but he bit my hand just as I was about to release him so I fumbled the freeing. He hit the ground and immediately ran to return to the house. "WHAT IS WITH THIS RAT?!" I screamed at my mom as we were running back to the garage to shut the door and keep the rat from reentering the house. The rat latched onto my shin and I screamed out in pain. I grabbed a baseball bat from within the garage and began to beat the rat. As I beat the rat, images were flying out of its mouth in horcrux fashion. "People" flooded out of his mouth, yelling at me that I am not good enough, that I am lazy, and that I cannot keep a clean house (why is this something I was worried about?) After nearly beating the rat to a pulp, I once again attempted to throw the rat into the yard. This time,
I woke up.
Lame. Don't even get to know the ending of my own dream. What thievery, damned alarm clock (phone)!
Confession: I've never watched Austin Powers, so I don't know why I use the line. Harumph.
