A Dream

I had a bizarre dream last night. I asked the son of a pivotally influential conservative minister to marry me (Even though I am married and he is married.) I was in my childhood home---I have had several vivid dreams set there lately---and I asked this person to marry me. We were not close. Politely cordial.

He said yes. We didn't touch or kiss or hang out together. I might have asked him if he agreed it was a nice day. We went our ways.

Then we got married. There was a brief moment on the chancel of the big cathedral from my childhood. No feelings. Very businesslike. Then I am back at my parents house, and I am trying to find my running shoes. He is nowhere around, and that is fine. I don't expect him. I'm frustrated. I can't find them anywhere. I'm sifting through piles of stuff, looking in all the closets and near the doors. My (lesbian) sister shows up to visit my parents. I'm looking through her stuff. In the back of my mind, I'm hoping I don't have to change my last name because I'm dead set against it. I'm wanting to be with Phil (my actual husband) and not with husband number two. I'm wondering why he said yes and what his wife is going to think....

Very strange.

So I'm trying to leave my parents' house but I can't find my shoes.... They are buried in all the stuff.

This isn't symbolic or anything....

What the heck was the weird marriage part about? There was no attraction. It was very business like. But suddenly there's this permanent legal tie, that I pursued and chose, that will now just be really hindering, annoying, and hard to explain.

And that was the dream.

Where's Joseph when you need him?

Huh. Well, off to school. Soon I will know what my Christian Doctrine teacher thought of my third essay. Dare I hope for a 12?

haha! I'm so sick. What a perfectionist. It's creepy. Will I be happy with anything less than eleven, now that I've gotten one? Sigh.