In the wee hours of Sunday morning I awoke from a disturbing dream. Now to put things in prospective, I hardly ever remember my dreams, and the ones I do kind of remember are nebulous at best.
Perhaps after reading this detailed description, one of you loyal readers will be able to help me make some sense of it.
I found myself in the midst of a newly-constructed home that I obviously was either building or buying. The workers were still in the process of completing certain aspects of the bathroom and kitchen areas. As I inspected the bathroom tiles on the walls, I noticed a number of chips, some no more than a speck, others as large as a nickel. When I brought these defects to the attention of one of the guys, he assured me that this was the make-up of the material and not to worry. If you know me at all, you won't be shocked at my response. "Bullshit, these tiles are NOT what I ordered, so get busy ripping them off and replacing them with quality materials." Actually I think in this situation, my comments were quite civil under the circumstances!
My next order of business was to check out the kitchen. Walking into the open floor plan, the self-standing range immediately caught my attention. It was about three feet high, two feet wide, and was WHITE! The first thing that popped into my mind was that all the other appliances were the right height and width and were BLACK, my color of choice. Secondly, as I opened the oven door, I replied aloud, "How in God's name am I going to be able to fit a turkey in here?"
A young man approached me and introduced himself as the son of the contractor. He asked what the problem was, and after explaining my dilemma, he told me that this range was the latest in design and technology, and that I would be very happy with my choice. My heated comeback went something like this, "If you think I believe you, you're out of your cottonpicking mind, and I DIDN'T SELECT THIS RIDICULOUS EXCUSE FOR A RANGE, so put that in your pipe and smoke it!" (my actual words were a bit too coarse for this post, if you get my drift)
Upon hearing all the ruckus, the contractor came into the kitchen looking slightly perturbed. When his son laid out my complaints, the older man asked me to sit down to CALMLY discuss my displeasure. (Evidently this fellow was either in denial or hadn't a clue to whom he was about to converse with!)
After listening to "Blah, blah, blah," for about ten minutes in dream time, I demanded a state-of- the-art built-in range with both conventional and convection ovens and a microwave, too.
NOW HERE IS WHERE THIS DREAM GETS REALLY WEIRD!
The next words out of this contractor's mouth floored me! "Where do you plan on having your mother buried?" he asked. For a moment my mind went blank, since I was certain that my mother had died 12 years prior and had been interred next to my dad in our parish cemetery. He suggested she be put to rest in the Baldwin area, and when I questioned why, he simply explained that it would be the best and cheapest decision for me to make. At that moment, I became enraged and yelled something like, " You're a complete a**hole! I'm not looking for cheap, and my mother belongs next to my father's side in death as she remained so in life! Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I vacated the seat and walked towards the door. I knew I wasn't ever going to live in that house with the RIDICULOUS EXCUSE FOR A RANGE AND THE INANE CHARACTER OF A CONTRACTOR!
When I awoke from my disturbing dream, I was emotionally upset.
Why did I remember this one in particular so vividly?
What did it mean?
You tell me.