Freudian Trip

Last night I dreamed that Bachelor erupted. I saw it from my bedroom window from the first sign of smoke. The sky was dark and the lava was pouring down the side of the mountain, glowing orange and red in the viewfinder of my window. It was magnificent! I made sure that L got pictures of it, because in my dream he was the only person in town that could. Everyone else was frozen in fear. This isn't actually the first time I've dreamed of a volcanic eruption, I wonder if it will come again. Of course it seems so obviously sexual, Mr. Freud would have a field day with it.

When I was pregnant, I dreamed that I gave birth to a tiny alien baby. I went shopping and left it behind in a dressing room. When I finally remembered and went back for it, it had shriveled up from the heat in the room and died - a tiny, fragile paper-mache baby.

When I was three, a wolf stole into my room in a dream and argued that my bed was his bed. I woke up on the floor screaming when he pushed me off. Nothing my parents said could convince me that it didn't really happen. I was on the floor - how else could I have gotten there if the Big Bad Wolf hadn't pushed me?

You know, I believe that Old Siggy would pay me to retell my dreams. But I don't want to know what they mean. My life might start to make sense.