Now that I’ve (hopefully) piqued your interest with that incredibly inviting, leading, impossible-to-resist headline, I implore you to keep reading. Go on. I dare you. Because I need your Freud-y smarts!
According to a recent This American Life podcast, there are seven topics that should never see the light of conversation. Things like health, periods and money. And dreams. I totally agree. Hearing about people’s dreams is really pretty tedious. Unless – I believe – they are creative types. Then they have wackadoo dreams that you kinda wanna hear about. Especially when you meet up with them early in the morning (say, for a dog walk or a sneaky coffee and croissant), not long after they’ve woken, and that dream is still vivid and real to them.
I walked and talked with a fabulous lady-friend in the wee small hours this morn, and she’d just dreamt about being part of the Ghostbusters team. We walked past a father and son, and she had to do a double take to ensure they were safe, and she wouldn’t have to whip out her ghost-busting hose.
When I was on my way to meet her, I spied with my little eye… a worm on the footpath. I feel like I used to see worms on the footpath ALL THE TIME when I was a kid, but now, not so much. Is it because there are less worms in the world? Is it because the birds are more clued in and snapple them up before they wiggle away into the grass? Or do we just not see them with grown up eyes? No matter. This worm on the path gave me a split-second thought of “That worm… I dreamt about…” and then I lost it.
And then – as per the beauty of fragmented thought – a couple of hours later, it came back. And writing this now, I realise it’s a TOTALLY boring and not-to-be-discussed topic! Who really cares that in MY dream, I was drinking instant coffee out of a homemade ceramic mug and, as I took a sip of the scalding brew, I noticed a small air hole near the lip of the mug and in that air hole was a tiny grey grub. I couldn’t keep drinking the coffee (ew, could you?) and, to save him from the hot water of the dishwasher or the kitchen sink, I poked my fingernail into the hole to try to get him to budge. And budge he did. The tiny grey grub slipped out of the hole and into the coffee and as he fell, he grew and grew (in the time it took to fall from the hole to the coffee, he was already the size of an earthworm). And I could see him continue to grow IN the coffee (it was disgusting. He was kinda thrashing around like a carp in the shallows). I gave the cup to Rich and asked if he could tip out the coffee – and the worm – outside, which he did. But when he splashed the heinous, frothy, wormy coffee into the garden, out fell…
… an enormous, venomous door snake. Made out of floral, vintage fabric, but as poisonous as a dart frog.