Drives. Me. Nuts.
First of all, no. Okay? If I learned anything from my Vanderbilt education it’s that Sigmund Freud needed to calm the hell down. He may have inadvertently said one or two things that made sense, but I can assure you of this: a dream is not a wish fulfilled. A dream is just the universe's way of ensuring I AM RIDDLED WITH ANXIETY AT ALL TIMES.
So last night, I dreamed that I dropped my iPhone on the sidewalk outside my office, and it fell so hard it bounced off the concrete leaving a giant chip in the top left corner of the case. (Totally just figured out the significance of this dream but will not bore you with the details lest I reveal the dull inner workings of my psyche.) When I tried to access the Internet to see if the iPhone was working, the connection was r e a l l y s l o w and h E rk y JE rkY, and I spent the remainder of the dream trying to concoct a lie to tell to the guy at the Apple store so that he wouldn’t know I dropped my phone—and would give me a new one for free.
(The nerve of me! What kind of person am I? A lying sack of iPhone-related lies, that’s what kind.)
I finally decided that if I just removed the case, where the chip was, there would be no evidence of oh my GOD, so obvious! Why don’t we all say the meaning of the dream TOGETHER? Polly McSimpleton-Head.
So, but my point is, when Patrick woke me up at 4:45 a.m. (after Gus had woken us up at 1:30 a.m.), at first I was livid because “FIRST MY iPHONE AND NOW THIS?” But as I settled Patrick back into his bed, it dawned on me that I had been dreaming. In reality(!), my iPhone was safe and sound!
Which was my wish all along!
Which means … that actually ... waking up is a wish fulfilled.
And Sigmund Freud can pretty much suck it.
Please direct all inquiries regarding any honorary Ph.D’s you may wish to bestow upon me for this extraordinarily insightful post to my assistant, Anna O.