THE ODDS (Debbie Does ALS)


8.17.2010

Calling all analysts

A recent dream, for your reading pleasure.

I'm sitting in a small courtyard bordered on all four sides by loggia. My eyes are closed and I'm resting in a lounge chair. A friend comes into the courtyard and puts something in my lap; my eyes are still closed but I can tell I am holding soft little puppies, the one on the left is chewing my index finger. I open my eyes when the puppy bites hard and scratches my hand -- four long scratches and two short scratches -- and I see they are not puppies at all, they are little black kittens and they run to one side where, sitting in the loggia, are six black Labradors and two black cats. All of the animals, dogs and cats, walk out of the courtyard.

I'm in a room filled with random objects: furniture, equipment, artwork, and boxes. Everything is being moved around in preparation for an audit. Two technicians keep asking me if the auditors are coming on Monday; I won't confirm or deny because I know the technicians are hiding something that the auditors need to find. I leave the room.

I pass a bar, a beautiful and elegant structure made of wood. The bartender is suggesting drinks and I choose one that looks like watermelon juice -- pink but clear -- but tastes more like a sweet wine. Glass in hand I leave the bar and follow the maître d' to the booth where my friends are waiting. We eat and talk and there is debate over the existence of a street named for a princess. I insist I know the road and leave, getting into my car. Of course the road exists and I drive the full length of it. I turn right at the corner and the road is littered with little sections of log -- no matter how I try I can't avoid driving over them and the jostling and scraping unnerves me.

I take a right at the next corner; this street is flooded and the rushing water carries my car forward. Too late do I see a man in the water trying to rescue a white dog with brown spots; the man must roll out of my way but the dog is fine and I give him a treat. The man, sitting on the side of the road, mutters oaths at me. I apologize but it doesn't help.

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