Monday, April 07, 2008

The Go-Cart Signifies Awesomeness

A while back I wrote about a dream in which my hand and part of my forearm were cut off and my hand was reattached to my arm minus the missing section of wrist and forearm.
When I mentioned this to Kathleen, she asked if I’d looked it up to find an interpretation. I hadn’t, but when I did later, I wasn’t able to find anything, really. Just a few instances of people recounting dreams in which they did things like cut their own fingers off with scissors, which was interpreted as having to do with paring away unnecessary items in their lives or something.
What I’m really curious about, though, is the dream I had this morning shortly before my alarm went off in which I found myself playing hooky from grade school so that I could spend my time tooling around in this kick-ass futuristic go-cart that I’d built using old snowmobile parts.
Interpret that, Freud.
Other than dreaming about kick-ass go-carts, not much of interest has been going on. Today was really long and really boring.
I did see that cute girl from the elevator that I mentioned seeing shortly after I started at the new job, and who I saw again a while back and then discovered afterwards that my fly was open.
In any case, I saw her today, appropriately enough, on the elevator, and I think she was wearing the same outfit that she’d been wearing the first time I saw her.
As we were riding up and she stood over on the other side of the elevator in a much less friendly and more defensive posture than the one she had taken back in my first encounter with her, I found myself wondering why, given that there was just the two of us, three buttons were lit up.
When we stopped at the third floor, she looked over at me and reluctantly admitted, “I pushed the wrong button.”
I laughed and said it was okay, then she got off, rather quickly, when we stopped on the fourth floor, and then I continued on my way up to the sixth.
And that’s seriously as exciting as it got today.
No go-carts at all, not even of the non-kick-ass and futuristic variety.
I’m sure tomorrow, being as it is my last day before taking a week off, will be even longer, more boring, and just as go-cart free.

3 comments:

Merlin T Wizard said...

Was the go-cart fueled with radness? Did it go the speed of wicked? Was it painted the color frackin' sweet? I bet it was all these things and more.

lbugsh2 said...

Can I be Freud? If so here is what I would say. The go cart is you running your life, while your inner child trying to catch up and have fun. Oh and it all relates back to the fact that you want your Mom. You know any time Freud is involved its all about how you want your Mom or Dad sexually. I think personally he sniffed to much Coke in his time.

Heimdall said...

Well, as you'll soon see, my mom is pretty hot.
As for what fueled the go-cart and how it ran...you've been spying on my secret go-cart plans, haven't you?