Friday, October 3, 2008

Whatever would Freud say

I have dreams.

Bathroom dreams.

I used to have really wonderful bathroom dreams. Like, I walk into a room and there are many different showers to choose from, and I could just choose one. The pink jacuzzi? The old ball and claw? How about a 1970s beige oversized shower with double spigots? Ahhhh. A shower for every mood, holiday or special occasion.

Oh, I loved those dreams. Loved them almost as much as the I-opened-a-door-in-my-house, and-there-were-twenty-rooms-back-there-I-never-knew-existed,-sometimes-including-four-new-kitchens dreams.

I never have the multiple shower dreams anymore, for some reason. Maybe, because since having kids, my idea of a dreamy shower consists of 1) hot water and 2) solitude.

But I also have bad bathroom dreams.

Public bathrooms skeeve me no end and have since forever, so it is no surprise that I will dream sometimes that I have to go so bad, but the only available bathroom is SO gross, like, have you seen the toilet scene in Trainspotting? That gross.

If you haven't seen that movie, I don't necessarily recommend it. For a variety of reasons. But if you have - simpatico right there sister.

So in these dreams I definitely can't sit on the seat, but I can't really squat because I can't even touch the walls because they too are dripping with, um, stuff. And it is all over the floor, and of course I wearing sandals. So I am trying to squat while trying not to get my feet dirty and often the toilet is in a very awkward spot and of course there is never any toilet paper.

I have been having dreams like this for 15, 20 years and I tell you, they are awful.

In the past few years another element has been added.

Like disgusto toilet dreams aren't neurotic enough. Oh no. My psyche took it another level.

I dream now that I have to go so bad, but people, including men, can see me. Not creepo men, just like regular guys who walk in and say embarrassed, "OH oops excuse me." Which is traumatic enough.

One time, the bathroom was unisex and the doors were too short. Another dream, there was a big gap in the doors that anyone could see right through.

This afternoon, Walker let me nap and I dreamed that we were escaping a hurricane (hmmm) and the door just would not stay shut. I would shut it, it would look like it locked, and then it would creep open right when I sat down to go. So I get up to shut it - it looks locked, I sit down, it swings open...

These dreams are incredibly anxiety producing.

They're as bad as the I-call-911-but-I-can't-get-through-or-the-operator-won't-believe-me dreams.

One spot of good news - I no longer have the I-have-a-final-today-and-I-have-never-been-to-the-class dreams. I guess I am too old for those now. One benefit to aging.

But the potty dreams - y'all, what is wrong with me??

Or, maybe I shall now find out in the comments that you are all just as neurotic as I am...

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