My Naked Dream...

Well, I woke up this morning really happy because I knew the topic of this entry. Surprise! I had a dream that I remembered fairly clearly….and not just any ole dream but a NAKED dream! Before I describe it, I should mention that I don’t usually recall my dreams….or, if I do, I can only recall vague impressions. Usually, the dreams that I can recall involve me being lost in unknown locations interacting with strangers and there’s some urgency for me to reach certain destinations at certain times. I’ve had a number of these type of dreams since we starting social isolating. I suppose the feeling of being helpless or out of control would be easy to interpret given the circumstances. And, the dreams happen without the intrusion of COVID-19, so being mask-less is not an issue.

My dream last night begins after the “plot” has already begun, it put it accurately. I’m sitting at an office cubicle (very much like the one I had when I worked in the Sears Tower – yeah, yeah, it’s technically called the Willis Tower now, but I’m old and set in my ways.) Anyway, the desk is cleared of everything….no phone, no computer (I don’t even think I brought my phone). The only thing I have with me is a tablet of class notes that I borrowed from somebody. I guess this is a variation of the old “I didn’t go the class all semester, and now I have to take the final exam” or “I have to submit my final paper and have to bullshit my way through it overnight.”

Anyway, my husband, Tim is also in the building working on a very important project…so I’m biding my time, waiting for him to finish. And for some reason, I decided to accompany him to his job, wearing only a towel around my waist. I assume I also wore shoes (I’ve I hadn’t that would have been an issue I would have noticed). After a while I go to his desk which is on the same floor. People are milling about, but nobody (not even Tim) seems to notice that I’m half naked, although I am acutely aware of it. Or if they are aware, they don’t seem to care. Now, a 61 year old extremely hairy man with a pasty dad bod usually attracts attention (good or bad)….but nobody seems to care. It’s like I’m wearing a pair of Easter Bunny ears. People might notice but they don’t call attention to it.

Well, Tim is going to be working quite a bit longer so I decide to go outside briefly (no pun intended). And once I get outside I somehow lose my towel! So I’m dodging behind bushes and cars – any place to hide myself! Eventually, I find some gray (why it’s gray, I don’t know) cardboard and some cord, and I fashion a makeshift kilt. Really, it’s just the cardboard folded around me and secured with the cord – very primitive. And I find that I can’t get back into the office building! I need a security card!

So, I decide that I might as well try to find some conventional clothing. So I hop on an elevated train since it appears that the dream is taking place in Chicago. How I got on without any money is a mystery. But it’s important to the plot I guess, so let’s not dawdle (I haven’t used that word in years!) on that. The important thing is I’m on the train, and, again, nobody seems to care about my state of undress. They briefly notice, but they aren’t really shocked. We are traveling to an area of Chicago called Wicker Park, which is rather bohemian in nature. So, I guess everyone must be thinking that I some sort of Avant Garde performance artist.

I get off and head towards a little storefront called Leather 64TEN. Now, Leather 64TEN is Chicago’s oldest and largest leather goods store, and they sponsored me when I competed in the International Mr. Leather Contest five years ago (Yes, yes, my lovelies….I promise to write all about my leather lifestyle…eventually!). Now in real life, the actual store is located miles from Wicker Park...but I assume this is some type of branch location. I head there because I hope that the store clerks will recognize me and give me something to wear – a jockstrap, something, anything!

But for some reason, I never get to the store….so I head back to the office building via the elevated train. Again, I don’t know how I’m able to pay the fare. I’m still wearing my cardboard couture. Once I arrive at the office building a couple of men take pity on me…..well, they really don’t seem to care….and let me into the building and I find myself back at my original desk, when the dream began. Tim is still working, and, doesn’t seem to notice that (or be concerned) that I’ve traded my towel for a piece of cardboard.

And then I wake up!

So, does anyone want to take a crack at dream interpretation?!

Also, while I was having my coffee recalling this dream, a hummingbird pooped on me. Is that an omen of some sort?