I’m a very dreamy person. And unfortunately, not always in a good, cheerful kinda way. Last week I dreamt the coolest, most vivid dream about my dearest grandfather, who passed away five years ago. Waking up wasn’t exactly pleasant, as you might guess. I was dreaming about riding on two bikes simultaneously. That alone was quite an adventure, but it turned into a mission impossible because I had to balance a parrot on my shoulder…
The same night there also was some crazy gal, who threw babies around in the streets. She was aiming at the trash cans! Again, in my dreams, but rather strange don’t you think? Not that long ago I was even tortured by not one but two nightmares, both in one night. I had a starring role in Stieg Larsson’s Milennium Trilogy. And I ended up in the middle of the ‘Panic Room’ episode. Not exactly the part you’d want to end up in, I can ensure you. It’s actually debatable whether you’d want to end up in any episode of Stieg Larsson’s story in real life is to be debated, but that’s another topic.
To cut a long story short; most often I want Mister Chifff to wake me up from my unpleasant dreams. Sometimes I’m even aware of the fact that I’m just having a bad dream and all I have to do is give him a sign to help me wake up. But you tell me: how can you warn someone who is sound asleep, when you’re sleeping yourself!?
Besides these above-mentioned scary dreams, there are some happy moments with oh-pleaaaase-don’t-tell-me-it’s-a-dream-dreams. Times when I have a huge smile on my face and even giggle out loud. Of joy, pure pleasure. Like my bounty beach dream. And in those cases, I’d strongly recommend: just let me be & do not, I repeat, do not wake me.
One of those dreams involved the most lovely shoes. By Proenza Schouler. I’ve absolutely adored these eye candies (see pic above) for some months now and last week they were mine. I remembered hearing the doorbell and when I opened the door, there he was. The postman, with a big red box tied up with a pink bow. And yes – he was certainly at the right address, this beautiful package was for me! I couldn’t recall ordering anything but I just signed the receipt and hurried inside to open the box. And there they were: shiny, brand new, state of the art, gorgeous, wonderful, smelling like daisies (and that’s pretty strange, I don’t even know what daisies smell like!); my own Proenza Schouler sweethearts!
Within a nanosecond I had the beauties on and started parading around the house, like I was walking down the catwalk in a Victoria’s Secret show. Didn’t I look amazingly fierce with these high-heeled boots? I was disturbed while posing; the doorbell rang again. Who dared to interrupt my joyous moment? And why was no one at the door when I opened up? And why did the doorbell still ring!?
“Uhm, honey?” Someone was poking me… Okay, it turned into pushing. What the… “Honey, why won’t you turn of your alarm clock?! It’s time to get up.” Grrrrrr. Bye bye, dearest Proenza Schouler shoes. Bye bye, sweet little dream…
PS My next dream has to be about winning the lottery, so I can buy my to-die-for boots. They’re on sale, so I only need a ‘meagre’ 1,100 dollars (instead of 1,364 dollars)!
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