I had the strangest dream last night. Not so much strange as it was that I actually remembered it. There I was waiting tables. Something that I haven’t done in over 10 years. It was so vivid and specific. Anyone who has waited tables knows what I’m talking about. I’m sure we’ve all had those dreams. But why do they just pop out of nowhere? And why are they the ones that are so vivid?
Whenever I have those dreams, I always wake up right in the middle of not having served everyone. Everyone in those dreams is always in a hurry. And, of course, nothing ever goes right. It’s chaos. So there I am, waking up. Problem solved, right? Wrong! I know that I’m awake, but there are still those people in the unfinished dream that haven’t been served. So, like a dumbass, I sit up in bed and finish the service in my head. It’s so ludicrous. There is still that anxiety left over from the dream. It won’t do away until I fix all of the problems
Sometimes, in the dream, I realize that it is a dream. So I go, “Hey, I can just do magic power things.” So I just make stuff magically appear. I don’t have to go through the routine and stress. I just imagine that everything is fixed and perfect, and it is. When I wake up I think, “Cool. Everybody is happy.” Again, it’s so stupid. I’m sure it’s all subconscious stress, or some kind of psychological thing. Or, maybe I’m just weird.
I don’t have those dreams very often. Maybe I do, but don’t remember them. I don’t know. Anyway, it’s always in the same place; a Mexican Restaurant that I worked in back in the 80s. At least I think it’s there. It doesn’t always look the same, but I know in the dream that’s where I am.
So, in the dream last night, some of the people that I worked with back then were in it. Some of them were quite a bit older than me. When I was awake, and trying to fall back asleep, I started wondering what they were doing now. And then I realized they’re probably dead. And then I started thinking about how, in the morning, I would try to find them on Facebook. And then I remembered that I couldn’t even remember most of their last names. Again, their probably dead.
At any rate, there is still some guy in that dream waiting for his guacamole. I know that he is just sitting there, waiting for me to fall back asleep so that he can run my ass off all over again. I hate that guy. He’s been popping up in dreams since I was a kid. He’s still waiting on me to bring him some Pop Tarts from the store from when I was 14. I’m sure he’s the manifestation of something, but I’m not Freud so I have no clue what it is.
Unresolved dreams are bizarre. Some of them go back decades; even to childhood. Somewhere, I’m still flailing around in a swimming pool, with my band uniform on, waiting for my band director to yell at me for getting it wet. Somewhere, the tornado sirens are going off and I’m riding my bike to the library to tell my sister that a tornado is coming. And somewhere, that stupid Pop Tart guy is waiting for me to bring his damned guacamole (sometimes he looks like Tony the Tiger, but I know that it’s still him).
And don’t even get me started on those Scooby Doo cartoon dreams.