This morning, in the ten minutes between snooze alarms, I had a series of nightmares. One where I screamed psychotically at a cashier for letting someone cut in line in front of me. One where I was driving in the snow and started spinning wildly on black ice. And one with a snake.
I haven’t had the snake dreams for years. They started when I was a child – I assumed as a direct result of the huge snakes that my step father kept as pets. I had a fear that they would escape, I guess, because I would regularly have dreams that they did and that they would come into my bed and bite me and / or strangle me to death. In one prominent dream the snake mutated to a science-fiction size beast that ate all of my family as I watched. I still remember it vividly.
The snake in this dream was normal sized, but it couldn’t be caged. It seemed friendly at first. I was trying to play with it, as were the two cats and as I am writing this I am realizing exactly how comical this dream was because Oh my god a snake with two cats? It doesn’t get any more Freudian than that, does it? Except it does because the snake kept darting in and out of the covers and out from under the bed trying to attack the cats who weren’t sure if they wanted to play with something that could kill them. And I couldn’t cage the thing. No matter where I grabbed it’s head it bit me. In my dream state this was all so terrifying but in my waking state sex sex sex sex sex sex sex. OY VEY.
Ahem. Yes, Dr. Freud, I hear you.