Day 43

(this is the first image that comes up when you google "hot dog coffee," but I think this is probably more accurate:)

DR. BLONDIE’S WEIRD DREAM ANALYSIS

Last night I had a really weird dream. I was at my parents’ house and no on was home. I think it was dusk. I hear a knock at the door, so I go and unbolt the front door. I peek as I open the door and it’s a woman with a baby in a stroller. I say, “Hi” and let her in without asking any questions (this is strange because I do not recognize this woman. She kind of looks like a very worn Melissa Leo meets Frances McDormand). I think I ask her how she is as I close the door behind her, catching a glance of the sun as it disappears beyond the horizon. She pushes the stroller into the kitchen as if she’s been here before.

“Do you have hot dog coffee?” she asks. Without a word, I open a drawer and dig through miscellaneous packets of oatmeal and tea bags. I have no idea what “hot dog coffee” is, but apparently my dream-self knows exactly what it is.

“We must be out. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she says as she picks up the baby out of the stroller. I assume it’s a boy since it’s dressed in a blue onesie. I notice that the wheels of the stroller squeak loudly as she pushes it aside. I look down and see that it’s my parents’ old linoleum floor. The cupboards are dark wood. The baby starts crying louder than any human should have to hear. And then I woke up…

I’m sure that this dream means something. Here is my guess:

1. “Hot dog coffee” I assume is coffee made with hot dog water, but since my dream-self went looking for it with the dry goods, I’m thinking that it’s hot dog-flavored instant coffee which just sounds like something they serve in Hades. It also concerns me that we had some and ran out. I think it’s also phallic with it being “hot dog” flavored.

2. The woman with the child clearly reflects on my relationship with my mother, and my feelings about procreating. I’m not sure what my feelings are about procreation, but chances are they’re as murky as hot-dog coffee.

3. The sun setting relates to time. OBVI.

4. The squeaking stroller indicates that I find children annoying. I think this is only half true. I think some children are annoying.

5. My dream-parents’ kitchen is really their old kitchen circa 1995. This is before they replaced the linoleum with wood laminate and painted the cupboards white. I think this must also relate to time.

6. The baby crying probably means that I am displeased with my internal clock apparently telling me I need to have babies.

So, I guess I had a weird dream about not having babies, not having a man in my life, and hoping to never look like Melissa Leo.

Can blondes get Ph.D.’s in dream analysis? Because I think I just did. Boom.

Today gets 4 Barbie Warhols: