Thursday, March 7, 2019

Serial Killer Manicures

So, last night, I dreamt I was a serial killer. Yeah, I don't think that dream catcher I got a few days ago is doing it's job. Strangely the dream didn't really seem to be a nightmare. Which sounds crazy since, you know, I was a serial killer. What do you suppose this says about my fucked up psyche? I knew I have issues, but this goes to a whole other level.

In the dream, I was so busy cleaning up after one of my killing sprees--yeah, apparently I hid the bodies--that I was late for a nail appointment. I literally dreamt that I was late to get my nails done because I was cleaning up blood to hide my crime. This is not normal.

The only thing I can think about this bizarre dream is that last time I was getting my nails done, Nicole and I were talking about dreams. I told her about my long-time reoccurring dream, that one time I dreamt I was married to Derek Hough, and about how I once dreamt that I made out with one of my male college professors in an elevator. Clearly, my brain is associating getting my nails done with dreaming.

So, according to the great font of knowledge--you know, Google--dreaming you're a serial killer can mean that you feel helpless in your life, so in the dream you're in a position of power. It can also mean that you're on a power trip and enjoy watching others suffer. Yeah, good thing I'm firmly in the dream interpretation is bullshit category, because both of those interpretations suck.

But, really, you'd think I'd have more to worry about than being late for a nail appointment if I was a serial killer. Apparently not.

One of the many, many mani's I was on time for. ♥