I'm gonna get all Freud on you now.
I've often wondered if there is any truth to dream analysis. I suppose that there must be, or the messages specific dreams convey wouldn't be so universally accepted.
|If you don't know what this means, you should go watch the |
worst movie ever, Shark Boy & Lava Girl. Right. Now.
Insert inappropriate joke about marriage being the death of a person.
Of course, I've always had my weirdest dreams when I was pregnant. Like the one where I birthed a litter of kittens or had triplets of the human species. The funniest were those insanely vivid hormonally driven libido dreams. I never knew I had such a creatively uninhibited imagination.
I had a really crazy dream last night, one that disturbed me on so many levels. Ah, the subconscious mind. So strong is it's ability to take our hopes and wants, our fears and aversions, and twist them into convoluted vivid movies.
I won't tell you what that dream was about, because frankly, it sucked.
Instead, I'll try to describe the funky dream my husband had a few days ago. It involved a pick up truck, no brakes, and rolling down some hill in Tijuana. He's not even sure what was happening, but he wondered what the hell his mind was trying to tell him.
I'm thinking he needs to change his brakes.