Get Out Of My Dreams, Get Out Of The Car

Here comes another dream. On the positive side, this one isn’t telling me I’m a failure…but apparently it’s telling me that I like to make other people feel like failures. What the? It also makes no sense.

I dreamed that Steve and I, the shoe thief and his girlfriend were at my grandma’s place at a family gathering. Why would the shoe thief be at my grandma’s? Ok then. My brother and sister were there, and we were all eating. Then my sister got frantic, saying she needed thesis data, and now, and she needed it from family. What? She’s not doing a thesis, she’s teaching! But this is dreamland. Ok, moving on. I asked her what she needed, and she said we had to fill out a survey…about something I couldn’t understand. She read me the opening statement describing what the survey was about, and I looked at her with vacant eyes. Then she flew into a rage and said “That’s what I said! It’s not clear! But oh no, my thesis advisor told me that it had to be this way. I had a clearer one, but he threw it out and said it had to be this way. I’m never going to get any good data!”

I told her that I’d do my best to answer the questions, and she said we all had to go back to Toronto that night to fill it out. I have no idea why. She asked my brother to get up so they could go back to Toronto, but he didn’t move…so I elbowed him hard in the ribs! What the hell? This apparently only made him laugh and say “Ok, we’ll go to Toronto…and thanks for waking me up with that jab there.” Uh-huh.

They headed back in his car, and Steve and I and the shoe thief and his girlfriend jumped in her little car. For some unknown reason, I had to sit in the middle in the front, between the shoe thief and his girlfriend, the way a wee little kid would sit. I don’t know where Trix went, but I know she was there. Maybe she went in the back with Steve? That makes no sense. But the even weirder part of this seating arrangement was that the shoe thief was driving! He can see some, but there’s no freakin way in hell he should be driving a motor vehicle…and that’s exactly how his driving was in the dream.

This had me scared out of my mind, and I kept asking the shoe thief to switch seats with his girlfriend. I kept telling him that I didn’t feel safe with him driving anywhere, let alone Toronto. His girlfriend told me that he’s a fine driver, and I had nothing to worry about…but as she’s saying that, he nearly hit a tree, a pole, and a sign. Every time we almost hit something, I would grab his girlfriend’s arm and cling to her, begging her to please switch spots with him…but this was getting me nowhere. Steve was oddly silent through this whole thing.

Meanwhile, the shoe thief was talking about how he has started working for a women’s shelter, the same one I’d volunteered at years ago. Uh, that place doesn’t usually take men on as employees. I knew of one man who somehow got on a board to do with them, I think to address some accessibility issues for any residents with disabilities, but it took some work. So, I looked at the shoe thief with disbelief. He worked at the shelter? He told me yes he did, and it was very rewarding work. “They even let me drive their bus!” he says as he narrowly misses another car.

Their bus? Yeah, because large groups of abused women go on field trips and such. This dream is just wacked.

I gasp, “You drive their bus?” “Yeah! It’s great! They tell me I do very well,” he says as we skid nearly off the road and then get back on. I tell him that he can barely drive this car, so how could he drive a bus? He doesn’t like that. Then I tell him that he had better stop driving the bus because he’s going to have an accident, and when he does, he and the shelter will get sued for so much money that they won’t be able to pay it. Steve pipes up and says that perhaps now isn’t the time to talk about this. But I keep going. I ask him if this whole thing is a joke, and he assures me that it’s not. Then I tell him I’m as serious as he is, he needs to stop driving. I mean, does he even have a license? He sheepishly says he doesn’t. Then I get emphatic. “Pull over right now and switch seats with your girlfriend, because if we get stopped by the cops, you will so be going to jail.” At this point, he just puts the brakes on in the middle of the road and silently sobs. His girlfriend says “You see what you’ve done?” and Steve says “If we weren’t going to get in an accident, we for sure will get in one now…” and the dream ends.

What the hell? I can’t even begin to analyze that dream. I have a strange mind, a strange mind that appears to be very active while I sleep. But exactly what am I trying to sort out?

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