I had a dream last night. I dreamt of a friend from high school (who had a reputation amongst us for dating younger girls), who I found was visiting last weekend. Also I dreamed of a nightclub at our church, and malicious robots in a parking garage, and of Zelda and the glass that cut her arm.

I'm not sure of what order things happened in, and I'm not sure I'll remember enough to ever figure it out. But I don't really feel like explaining them right now, except for the Zelda thing, because she is significant, and so a dream involving her seems noteworthy.

As best as I can remember, I was in a grocery store. I was peering in through a display at some meats - meatloaf, roast, smoked fish, etc. - and considering a purchase. Something shook the display - I'm not sure if it was an earthquake or someone clumsily bumping it or what - and it fell. Glass broke, and Zelda (who I don't remember being there beforehand) cut her arm. It was her forearm that was hurt, and it was quite a nasty cut. Not the sort you could actually get from a mere shard of glass. A good deal of skin was missing (so as to more graphically depict the nature of the wound, I suppose), and muscle was showing. The muscle was cut deeply.

I was very concerned and rushed her inside (we were outside suddenly) to a bathroom, where I washed the wound and looked for bandages. Her sister was there as well, and she seemed disturbingly unconcerned about the whole affair. Zelda seemed a little distracted as well. I found bandages, and helped her to wrap the cut. The bandages were like very large band-aids; they were pink perforated plastic with adhesive. She wrapped this around her arm several times, keeping the gash from gaping, but put no gauze or cloth beneath it to absorb blood. The holes in the plastic bandages were large enough that a good deal of bloody muscle was still visible, and I was very concerned about it. Zelda seemed satisfied, though, and despite my protests that she hadn't taken care of things sufficiently, went on her way (whatever that was; Exit Stage Right).

You know, I've been reading "The Psychoanalyst and the Artist" recently, and seen some rather fruity interpretations of artwork (which, the author maintains, are like dreams). I suppose he would say that this is like the Beauty and the Beast thing. I know she didn't intentionally mean to "take away" the evening from me, but after she'd expressed interest in going, I was sort of looking forward to it. I knew that the family event might interfere, but I was living in a sort of blissful denial of it. The wound in the dream, I know, was hers, but it was my concern, and she seemed relatively indifferent towards it. I realize that she really did feel badly about having to decline the date, but primitive dream-makers don't always realize that, and like to be self-centered. Assuming, that is, that that is an adequate interpretation of the dream. I know that that is what Dr. Schneider would say, but he also has awfully Freudian convoluted sexual interpretations, so who knows. Actually now that I think of it he would probably try to make something sexual out of the sharp broken glass cutting a female. Odd birds, those psychoanalysts. Oh, yes. He would also definitely have something to say about birds. Editor's note: let's not forget the meat. All birds are phallic symbols, didn't you know.

Geez.

Well, I'd better get to work. It's that time again. I certainly hope I don't end up doing the same thing today.

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