Drea-ea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream

I've rarely ever had nightmares. I can actually count them on one hand. But when I started working at the hotline, I noticed that I started having them. And we're talking "guy in a suit from the Chicago Board of Trade mysteriously appears in my apartment to tell me to drop the rape charge I have against his coke-snorting trader buddy and just to be sure I understand, does something funky with my eye, flipping my eyelid inside out and leaving me permanently looking like I have a glass eye" kind of nightmares. That was the first time I ever woke up from a nightmare and actually felt scared. I walked around my apartment, flicking on lights and looking behind shower curtains and shit. As time has gone on, I've had fewer and fewer but every now and then, I have one that isn't quite as bad and at least, doesn't actually wake me up in the middle of the night.

But when I woke up this morning, I realized I had a...mixed up nightmare / dream last night involving this guy: (for you LOST fans, it's Keamy. Rawr!)


Soldier Boy-esque Keamy


Pretty Boy Keamy

It was odd for several reasons:

a. Although he's a tasty little treat in that pretty boy, chiseled kinda way, that's not at all the "look" I generally tend to be attracted to. Give me a too-smart-for-his-own-good geeky boy any day of the week.
b. I just about never have dreams about celebrities.
c. It was just plain odd, as dreams tend to be.

I was in what used to be my grandmother's house, which is now my cousin's house. My uncle was there, along with Keamy, and some other people, who for the life of me, I can't remember. Keamy was sitting in a chair and somehow, I wound up on the floor next to the chair, him with his arm wrapped around my neck and the gun he used in the episode where he killed Ben's daughter pointing down at my shoulder. He asked me some questions, which I apparently answered correctly, because he eventually wound up going from "badass, I'm gonna kill you" to "look at me weep with emotion," he told me he couldn't kill me, and let me get up. I went to the bathroom, washed my face, and came back out to find my uncle watching tv and Keamy sitting in the same chair, also staring at the tv. As soon as I started getting ready for bed (aka: appropriate non-attired ready for bed), my uncle disappeared, Keamy got out of the chair and adult fun commenced, which I won't write about because c'mon now...a lady never talks.

Now, I'm assuming the violent aspects of the dream possibly stem from the fact that I had a hotline shift last night and a few calls, which were a bit more than "hey, can I have a phone number to somewhere?" And I'm assuming the sexual aspects of the dream possibly stem from the fact that I left work nearly 20 minutes late because I was having a workplace-inappropriate, sexualized conversation with a co-worker, which I wound up thinking about on and off for pretty much the rest of the night.

It's not exactly...desirable that I dream about violence but I occasionally do. It's desirable that I dream of naughty, adult fun and occasionally I do. However, I don't much care for dreaming about them together. Mainly because I analyze everything. I want to buy this instead of that? Now, why exactly is that? I woke up 20 minutes later than I usually do? Oh my god, I wonder what's going on subconsciously that made me do that? Now and then, it's an okay trait to have. But mostly, it's just plain fuckin' annoying.

So when I wake up from a dream like that, I think, "hmm, fairly low-key violence but still...violence. Then, complete disregard for said violence, almost as if it didn't happen. And then, sex." And although he wasn't at all involved in the adult fun portion of the dream, thank whatever god may or may not exist, what in the fuck did my uncle have to do with anything?

And where the hell I was going with this entire post in the first place? Not a clue, really. But what the frick?