Dreams of Green (Good Lord, Such a Creative Title…)

Side note (esp. to KayGee): Blogger is being stupid and won’t let me comment. Jerkface.
I love those scenes from TV and movies where the main character is writhing in sleep and then wakes up, startled, from a dream that he or she was SO CERTAIN was real– Harvey really did find out that Sabrina is a witch! Sauron is coming to find Frodo! (Ok, ok, I guess Frodo actually had cause to worry about that one…) I’m not talking about Inception (dude, so good…) or Harry Potter’s dreams because they all turn out to be scary true. I’m talking about the new renditions of the “I’m naked and have to give a speech in front of Penn Badgely” dreams. They’re just great. I giggle.

Mostly because I rarely remember my dreams. Very, very rarely. I have a recurring dream that there is a muppet vampire– similar to The Count from Sesame Street, only this one actually wants to eat me, and he’s NOT sparkly like Edward Cullen– hiding in the Umbrella Tree from “Under the Umbrella Tree,” the classic children’s TV show which no one seems to remember so maybe it isn’t so classic. I also have a recurring dream that a mountain man/Bigfoot is chasing after me along a path in the woods (which greatly resembles the cross country trail from my middle school) while I’m babysitting small children, and I have to wrangle them up so we can run away to a small cottage that I know is just down/up/around the hill (and probably inhabited by the wicked witch from Hansel and Gretel who just secretly wants to eat us, because this couldn’t have a happy ending, IT’S A FREAKING SCARY DREAM!).

But the worst, the very worst dream I’ve ever had, I will probably have for the rest of my life. Are you ready for this? I…can’t open my 7th grade locker. That’s right. My combination doesn’t work, and I need to get books out, and I’m sitting on the floor trying to get the little wheel to turn to the right numbers and it just won’t, and the bell is about to ring in like two seconds, and all the other kids have gone to class and I’m gonna be late, and the Vice Principal is about to walk by and she’ll see that I’m tardy, and OMG BABIES IN FOREIGN COUNTRIES WILL DIE IF I GET DETENTION!!!

Are you crying yet?

Anyway, those three dreams are usually the only ones that I remember after I wake up. My family members remember some freaking strange dreams about bears and my teenage sister being impregnated by an alien life form and boats that only row backwards. I dream about my locker.

Until two nights ago. I don’t actually remember the content of the dream at all, I just remember who it was about.

Let’s call him Green. Don’t ask why; the association was made while I was making coffee this morning and so it might not actually be coherent. But no matter. His new name is Green.

Green and I used to work together before I was certified Intelligent and moved back to the Land of Minivans. He is a farm boy, through and through. His greatest joy? Turkey hunting. Now, I’m a big fan of Thanksgiving. BIG. FAN. In fact, it might rival Christmas for the Second Greatest Holiday of the Year (after 4th of July, of course). But actually killing the turkey? That doesn’t so much make me want to stand up and sing like Julie Andrews in the middle of a thunder storm. Yes, he is a very nice young man. And I think he may have even been starting to like me before I left work. (The first time we worked together, he caught me speaking in a fake British accent. It took me almost all year to convince him that I am quirky, not crazy.)

One night, after he and I closed up shop, we checked that the the front doors were locked and started walking towards our cars in the parking lot. A rabbit ran out of the bushes just in front of us, and I jumped a bit in surprise. Just a second later, a second rabbit ran out from the same bush.

“Oooooooh!” I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively. “Wonder what they were doing…? (Childish giggle)”

If Green were capable of glaring, which I’m not sure he is, he would have glared at me in that moment.

“That’s only jack rabbits.” He sounded exasperated. I was crushed. “Is that really the first thought that comes to mind when you see rabbits?”

Uhhhh. Two rabbits were hiding in the shrubbery. Yes, that really is the first thought that comes to mind. They weren’t laying Easter Eggs, duh.

And so, Brain of Mine, I ask you: Why was this boy in my dream? I know that I actually do dream every night. Why, then, do I only remember certain ones? Are you secretly telling me that Green is the vampire from the Umbrella Tree? Or that he is Bigfoot coming to chase me to the witch’s house made of gingerbread? Or that HE KNOWS THE COMBINATION TO MY 7TH GRADE LOCKER?!?!?! Omg, that thought just occurred to me, and now I have a great desire to stalk his Facebook for any hidden number combinations and commit them to memory so that the next time I dream about it I can open the frikkin thing and never think about it again…

Don’t tell me that there is no meaning behind this, because I know there is. Someday, somehow, I am going to unlock my dreaming potential. Then I’ll give a big speech like King Henry V, and we’ll all go eat turkey.


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