Dear Dream Interpreter,
Sorry for not writing until now and for sometimes saying aloud that dream
reading is worth a pinch of sh!t. I hardly ever remember dreams, but the other
night I had two vivid visions.
In the first one, I dreamt that this stupid house never sold–never ever
sold. The details are fuzzy, but there were a heap of for sale signs in
the front yard. Hundreds of for sale signs piled together, bent,
rusty. And I felt disappointment. And it was not easy to cut the tall
weeds growing up between them.
In the other dream, I was standing in the lunch line, about twenty people
back from the ticket-taker at the cafeteria for Beal City Public Schools.
Who butts in from the back of the line, cutting, along with three of his friends? Shaquille O’Neal, that’s who. WTF?! I couldn’t see
his head, but the Lakers jersey and No. 34 gave him away. He and his
friends pushed by us and into the kitchen. The end.
So what could all this mean, Dream Interpreter?