This morning’s dream was a doozy, and it’s full of profanity and other inappropriate stuff. Proceed with caution.
I have to write this down right now, before I forget it. I had an epic dream this morning. I don’t think it was a happy dream, per se. It was just outrageous, and perhaps a bit funny. Here goes.
Bill and I were staying in a really fancy hotel in Munich. I had booked us in a lovely room that had some kind of special bath arrangement. The huge bed was covered with fluffy white duvets and big pillows. The one catch was that I had to allow other guests to use the bathroom. It had some kind of really amazing bathing facility, and our room was the only one in the hotel with it available. For some reason, I was okay with this. We went up to the room and marveled at how beautiful it was. But we didn’t have long to enjoy it, due to the requirement that we let others use the bathroom.
Sure enough, there was soon a knock at the door, and I opened it to find a young couple standing there. They said they wanted to use the awesome bath facilities, so I stepped aside and let them in. I remember, I was uncharacteristically chill about this. I didn’t have the look pictured below on my face. That’s surprising, since I don’t like it when strange people ring my bell and I’m not the best at sharing… unless it’s salacious jokes or overly personal stories.
So anyway, the couple came into the room, and prepared to use the special bath. Then, there was another knock. This time, it was an acquaintance and her husband. I actually met this person in Stuttgart– it’s someone I know offline and outside of my dreams. The other couple… well, at first I thought they were strangers, but now I realize that I knew them offline, too. I think they were the couple that lived in our last house before we did. I don’t remember what he looked like in the dream, but she was tall and had long brown hair. She was kind of athletic and pretty, and seemed mostly pleasant at first.
I let my Stuttgart friend into the bedroom, thinking she was there to use the bath, too. I thought I’d just let them wait while the other couple did their business. When I went back to check on the other couple, I found that they had written something on the wall, then blotted it out in great jagged strokes of bright green paint. It was all over the wall. They had scratched out what they’d written, but upon reading carefully, it looked like one of those public declarations of love one finds carved or written on trees or painted in graffiti. “So and so” loves “so and so”… you get the gist. They’d carved that on the hotel room wall for some inexplicable reason, then wiped it out with the paint. It was right there in bold relief. I panicked, and realized that the hotel staff would think we did it, so I told Bill he needed to go tell the clerk at the front desk so we wouldn’t get blamed and charged for it.
I went back into the bedroom and found my acquaintance and her husband on my side of the bed, having very loud, energetic sex. They were really going at it. I became furious and said, “Hey, would you two mind not fucking each other on my side of the bed!?” I had visions of jism all over the sheets. Seriously, that thought crossed my mind in my dream.
They basically ignored me and continued their hyperactive fuckfest, so I stormed out of the room, intent on finding breakfast. It didn’t occur to me that it would be strange to be looking for breakfast right after checking into the hotel. And just as an aside, it’s odd that this person would be doing this. She doesn’t strike me as the type to have sex in someone else’s hotel room bed, messing up the sheets. But what can I say? It was a dream, and an odd one at that.
I got down to the lobby, which was this huge, expansive, luxurious place. There was this exclusive cafe there, that looked really nice and was famous and expensive, but actually served kind of average food. Then there was the hotel restaurant, which was where I was headed. I couldn’t find Bill, and I became more and more angry. I bumped into people, including three older, heavyset Asian women who spoke different languages. I didn’t understand what they were saying, and that was annoying to me. All three of the women were from the Far East. I figured one of them was Chinese and maybe the other two were from Japan, but I couldn’t tell by looking at them or hearing them speak. They just didn’t appear to be from western Asia.
I finally spotted Bill and we headed into the dining room. All of a sudden, I noticed a heavyset, dark haired, middle-aged woman with a small child, maybe about a year old. The child appeared to be a boy. He had short dark hair, olive skin, and was kind of walking, but he was still very little. As we were trying to get to our table, the child suddenly took a massive dump right in front of me. I was watching the loose balls of shit coming out of the baby’s ass, and the mother was doing nothing about it but laughing. As the copious shit flowed from the baby onto the carpet, it looked like Swedish meatballs and stank to high heaven. Somehow I got some of it on my hands, even though I hadn’t even touched the child.
I rushed out of the restaurant to find a bathroom, so I could get cleaned up. It was at about this point that I woke up. I remember thinking that Munich is a wonderful city and the hotel was beautiful, yet I was having all of these extremely weird and gross mishaps that weren’t really my fault. If I think about it, it’s not unlike our time in Stuttgart, which was overall great, but still fraught with problems. Some of the problems were my fault. Others were definitely not, but I still got blamed for them. Also… I was much too trusting. Yeah… I would say this morning’s dream, as weird and outrageous as it was, also conveyed some valuable lessons. It doesn’t always pay to be too nice, too trusting, or too tolerant. Otherwise, you end up with messy sheets, damaged walls, and all kinds of other stinky shit.
Next weekend is our anniversary. We’re going to spend the night in a nice hotel in Frankfurt, then the next day, we’re flying to Poland. Bill has business there, and I’m tagging along. I may find some things to do, but mainly he just wants me to keep him company. I wasn’t actually wanting to go with him, once I learned we’d have to fly. I wanted to drive so we could stop by Dariusz Milinski’s art gallery and buy a painting. It’s been on our bucket list since we celebrated anniversary number 6 in Poland, back in 2008. We wanted to buy a painting then, but only had enough cash to buy a couple of sketches.
Alas, Bill’s company is requiring him to fly. I was going to stay home, but he convinced me to go with him. Hopefully, it will be fun, and no one’s child will shit in front of me at breakfast. As for the rest of the dream, the only chance of a really fancy room is when we’re in Frankfurt, since we’re paying for it. And since we’re paying so much, I won’t be allowing strange couples into my bedroom so they can deface the walls and fuck each other in my bed.