Last night’s dream involved me opening a briefcase. This briefcase exists in the real world, and hasn’t been opened for about 8 years, for reasons which will shortly be made clear. It lives in “my” room in my parent’s house (as in, it used to be my room when I lived there, and I still sleep there if I’m visiting), and contains various deep dark secrets from my youth, like early teenage diaries and things. The briefcase is locked with a combination lock, and the code to the lock is the phone number of a girl I had a crush on a long, long time ago. Unfortunately for me, and for anyone else hoping to unlock said briefcase and reveal terrible truths about the teenage me, I have no idea what that phone number is. Except – obviously I do remember, somewhere in my deep, dark subconcious, because in my dream last night, I clearly remembered the number, and opened the briefcase. I’m sure it was the right number, but come this morning, I once again had absolutely no idea what it was. And I have my grandparent’s phone number stuck in my head instead. I hate to think what Freud would make of all this.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 4th, 2004 at 11:16 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.