Strange Dream-- it's too cold for this one




I had the most bizarre and stressful dream last night. I was at a new writing conference, but one run by my good friend Dawn, whom I have known for years. Let me just say that she is a smart, warm, funny, and deeply compassionate person in real life. 

Not in this dream. We were all given a theme we had to dress like for the week we were to be together. I was nowhere near home, and my theme, once I got to the conference site, was NAKED. What?? Others got bikers, or the 1950s, etc. And we were to remain in character all week. Well, I tried. I grabbed a huge towel, though, because who wants to stick to vinyl seats? It was humiliating-- I know what I look like unadorned. Let's just say, I'm "lived in." Some of my best friends in the poetry world could not bring themselves to look at me, conversation was impossible, and I was really uncomfortable. I went to the room being used as an office, and I confronted my friend who was adamant that, since I had read the fine print and had agreed to the concept of surprise costuming, I had to do it. I put my foot down, demanded that I get a different theme, or I was going home. I had no ride; I'd have to call my husband to come and get me. How awful. After a bit of hollering back and forth (and I've never heard Dawn holler!), I was given "medieval woman." My dream ended right as I was asking the kitchen crew for a rolling pin and apron, to approximate the Cook from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales...

What  a mess. I never have dreams where I'm naked. Nor do I usually have any sort of dream when I'm yelling at other people. At least I asserted my rights to be clothed. 

I am so glad today is Friday. Clearly, my brain is addled.

Take care,

C

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