Monday, August 27, 2012

Insult to Injury

I looked out my bathroom window and was stunned by how sunny and inviting it looked outside - stunned because I was shocked that all the snow had melted so fast. Only then I remembered my dream from the night before... there had been snow everywhere; the world was coated with it. It was a odd-feeling way to remember the dream, to be smacked into the memory of it by the reality of how false it had been.*

I've always found dream dictionaries to be fascinating - every time I look up the images in my dreams, I see the explanation and think, "oh my god, yes, exactly!". I climbed into my bed and opened my computer, quickly pulling up snow in the dream dictionary. This was the definition verbatim:

"To see snow in your dream signifies your inhibitions, unexpressed emotions and feelings of frigidity."
....what a dick. Um, screw you, dream dictionary. Like, I don't need you to tell me I'm frigid, okay, I know that perfectly well. Just... just rude, is what it is. Rude and unnecessary. "More like you're frigid!" I yelled unconvincingly at the computer and slammed it shut. "Ass."

Spurned by the douche move on the part of an impolite dream dictionary, I strongly needed to save face. How about distracting myself with a read? I looked around and saw a Harry Potter book laying on my floor. It'd do. Surely I couldn't go wrong with the Potter! I grabbed the book off the floor and opened to a random page.

"Hermione's schedule was so full that Harry could only talk to her properly in the evenings, when Ron was, in any case, so tightly wrapped around Lavender that he did not notice what Harry was doing. Conversely, the muggle Alex had not had human contact with anyone he wasn't related to in roughly three days."

I slammed the book shut. What? That wasn't how I remembered it. Oh, and SHUT UP STUPID HARRY POTTER. I hurled the book across my bedroom and it fell behind the large bookshelf that rests against the wall. "Hah!" I shouted in the book's general direction. "Who's not having human contact now?" Stupid book. What a loser it was.

I turned on the television - my go-to escape from life. I treat TV with care, and in return it has always done the same for me. It was an odd time of day and the local news was on. The anchor began to speak.

"No new updates in the dramatic standoff that has kept us riveted for the last several hours.  Alex has still not left his room. We will update you on the situation as it progresses."

No no no no no. Not having it. I got up and ran out of my room - HAPPY NOW, NEWS ANCHOR? - downstairs into the kitchen. I grabbed my iPod and headphones, stuffed the buds into my ears and clicked shuffle. Loser, by Beck. NEXT. You've Got Growin' Up to Do by Joshua Radin. UGH, NEXT. Odds of Being Alone by Amy Stroup and Trent Dabbs**.

"Are you KIDDING ME?" I screamed at the machine as I clicked for the next song. Dickhead by Kate Nash. "VERY FUNNY! I've had just about enough..." I sputtered through my gritted teeth as I clicked one more time. I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked, by Ida Maria. "iPod!" I gasped as I blushed and tore the earphones out. "Cheeky little thing..."

Having had quite enough of technology for the time being, I decided to go for a run, clear my head and give myself a free endorphin boost. Pull your jaws off the ground, my "runs" last about 15 minutes. And there may be walking in between the running. I can't say for sure. So I took off down the street, turning out of my neighborhood and running along the highway. I don't normally like to do this, as I hate people seeing me run - it looks as dumb as you'd imagine - but y'know, desperate times. The cars whizzed by and... I was stunned as I realized the drivers were holding signs out of their windows. I stopped running to read the signs, each with only one single word written on it.


"HOW ABOUT YOU GET A JOB, HUH?!" I screamed in a full rage down the road at the cars that had already passed me. "AT LEAST I'M RUNNING! YOU'RE FAT!" The cars were out of sight. "PROBABLY!" Jesus christ. I've had it.

In my room I crawl under my blanket.

...You guys, I think my subconscious might be an asshole.

*Does that make any sense whatsoever?
**This is a great song, by the way, go have a listen. This isn't a paid endorsement.***

***Paid endorsement.

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