ExposedNYC

Dreams have a way of revealing all kinds of odd ideas that are buried deep in our subconscious mind. I don’t always remember mine clearly, but when I wake up from one that is particularly vivid, I try to take some sort of message from it.

The other night, I dreamt that Justin Timberlake removed my appendix. Don’t ask me where this came from since mine is fully in tact on whatever side it lives on (I always forget), but I am sure I probably heard songs of his 800 times that night at work. OK, so back to the dream…

I remember being really nervous because, although anything is possible in unconscious land, I was still perfectly aware that he was not a certified doctor. I freaked out even more when he walked in equipped with only a butcher knife and a folding table. I decided to go through with it despite my reservations.

As I lay face-down on the table, I remember him rubbing a numbing cream on the area of my back that he was about to cut open and then on my head to avoid feeling any pain (obviously, in my mind, medicine is a pretty mysterious phenomenon). Then he proceeded to cut me open, reach in with his hand to remove one of my organs, and crudely stitch me back up.

By the time I woke up he was gone, and I was heartbroken. I began to search the building to at least thank him, but was stopped by one of his bodyguards. I flashed my scar and managed to convince that allowing him to perform surgery on me had at the very least earned me the right of a backstage pass!

From there, details are a little hazy. I did find him, thank him, and joined his entourage to bar hop the night away. As I flirted shamelessly and vied for his attention, he remained indifferent, while his buddy Timbaland became more than interested. The last moment I remember before waking up was being in the backseat of an SUV, curled under Timbaland’s arm, but still desperately wanting the attention of Justin, who was driving, and wondering what else I could possibly do to get him to notice me.

What I see in myself from this dream:

1. I’m terrified that I don’t have health insurance and wouldn’t have many options if faced with disaster.
2. I’m often willing to disregard my own best interests to win the attention of a man, and idolize them to the point that I believe that they can do anything.
3. And finally, seriously, if one of the hottest producers in the music biz, who happens to be pretty damn cute too, is interested while your ideal prospect is obviously not, MOVE ON, and be happy with what you’ve got!

This entry was posted on Wednesday, August 8th, 2007 at 11:32 pm and is filed under Mundane Details, Random Rants, Moments. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.