Cheesecapades
I rarely remember my dreams. This is probably because I dream about boring things, for the most part. I usually have dreams about things like putting on shoes, making toast or other mundane stuff, as far as I can remember.
Last night I had a weird dream and it was so odd I wrote down details before falling back asleep.
This dream takes place in Seward, Nebraska. I am sitting in the middle of Concordia's campus with Kristin Bork and Kelly Curran, and the three of us are lounging on the benches (which no longer exist) around the Naked Man statue. Suddenly, we see Matt Clark running toward us from around the side of the music building. He's terrified, and he's holding a piece of paper in his hand. He stops when he reaches us, throws the piece of paper at Kristin, and runs off again.
Bewildered, Kristin reads the sheet of paper. She looks at Kelly and I and says, frantically, "We've got to get to the cheese before time is up." The three of us run to my car (my beloved 1993 Taurus, Lucy, who now belongs to someone else) and drive across town to Pac N Save, as quickly as we can without being pulled over by the uber-bored and desperate for action Seward cops.
It's cloudy, cold and windy when we reach the store, and for some reason we park really far away, even though the parking lot is nearly empty. We run as fast as we can toward the store, fighting the wind the entire way. For some reason I remember all three of us were wearing maroon Adidas jackets, just like the one I had in junior high, when those were so cool.
We burst through the doors of Pac N Save and rush to the cheese section. Kelly has somehow procured a shopping basket, into which I start throwing blocks of cheddar and colby jack.
"NO!" Kristin yells. "Not all yellow, you guys, it can't be all yellow!" She throws in a few bags of shredded mozarella, and Kelly starts to cry. Kristin hands her a tub of onion dip, which seems to calm her considerably. She cuddles the dip container under her chin and sniffles a little.
"No time, we have no time, we have to get there with the cheese before the other guys do or we won't get to go," Kristin says urgently. Suddenly I understand that if Travis and the other guys (whoever the heck they are) get there (wherever the heck there is) with the cheese first, we won't get to go (someplace, I presume). We run for the doors, and Kristin tosses a bag of nickels over her shoulder to pay for the cheese. We get to my car and peel out of the parking lot. I understand, without knowing how, that we have to get to my grandmother's house in South Dakota with the cheese or it's all over.
Then my cat pounces on my face and starts to bat at my hair, and I wake up. Hello, Freud, a little help here. Am I going crazy? Don't answer that.
Last night I had a weird dream and it was so odd I wrote down details before falling back asleep.
This dream takes place in Seward, Nebraska. I am sitting in the middle of Concordia's campus with Kristin Bork and Kelly Curran, and the three of us are lounging on the benches (which no longer exist) around the Naked Man statue. Suddenly, we see Matt Clark running toward us from around the side of the music building. He's terrified, and he's holding a piece of paper in his hand. He stops when he reaches us, throws the piece of paper at Kristin, and runs off again.
Bewildered, Kristin reads the sheet of paper. She looks at Kelly and I and says, frantically, "We've got to get to the cheese before time is up." The three of us run to my car (my beloved 1993 Taurus, Lucy, who now belongs to someone else) and drive across town to Pac N Save, as quickly as we can without being pulled over by the uber-bored and desperate for action Seward cops.
It's cloudy, cold and windy when we reach the store, and for some reason we park really far away, even though the parking lot is nearly empty. We run as fast as we can toward the store, fighting the wind the entire way. For some reason I remember all three of us were wearing maroon Adidas jackets, just like the one I had in junior high, when those were so cool.
We burst through the doors of Pac N Save and rush to the cheese section. Kelly has somehow procured a shopping basket, into which I start throwing blocks of cheddar and colby jack.
"NO!" Kristin yells. "Not all yellow, you guys, it can't be all yellow!" She throws in a few bags of shredded mozarella, and Kelly starts to cry. Kristin hands her a tub of onion dip, which seems to calm her considerably. She cuddles the dip container under her chin and sniffles a little.
"No time, we have no time, we have to get there with the cheese before the other guys do or we won't get to go," Kristin says urgently. Suddenly I understand that if Travis and the other guys (whoever the heck they are) get there (wherever the heck there is) with the cheese first, we won't get to go (someplace, I presume). We run for the doors, and Kristin tosses a bag of nickels over her shoulder to pay for the cheese. We get to my car and peel out of the parking lot. I understand, without knowing how, that we have to get to my grandmother's house in South Dakota with the cheese or it's all over.
Then my cat pounces on my face and starts to bat at my hair, and I wake up. Hello, Freud, a little help here. Am I going crazy? Don't answer that.
posted by Erin @ 10:32 PM
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