Precarious train tracks and butter pecan ice cream

I went to bed last night with one of those headaches that prevents you from doing anything other than lay quietly in a darkened room and pray for unconsciousness.  It started coming on towards the end of my class and increased in power when I walked outside and discovered a $30 parking ticket tucked neatly under my windshield wipers.  When I pulled into my building’s garage, Mamadou, the parking attendant who has become a friend, took one look at me and said, “Are you okay?”  There was concern written all over his face.  I mentioned the headache and the ticket and headed upstairs to my apartment.

The one benefit that I’ve found to getting a powerful headache is that they often bring with them extra-vivid dreams.  Last night I dreamt that I was thinking about moving back to Walla Walla, but the only house I could afford was one that sat 10 feet from an active train line.  A noisy and dangerous location, especially since in the dream I was pregnant.  It was an appealing little house except for that one issue and in the dream I was seriously considering getting it.  I felt like it was my only option and that it would be better to settle for something that wasn’t ideal than wait for what I really wanted.

Later I dreamt that I went to get ice cream and found myself at a shack that advertised itself as self-serve.  The bins of ice cream were brightly colored in hues that are not typically found in nature.  As I walked around with my cone and scoop, I discovered that I couldn’t actually reach the ice cream.  Each time I reached for it, it moved further away.  I found myself teetering on the edge of the freezer, leaning so far over that I nearly plunged head-first into the cardboard barrels of ice cream.  Finally my dad appeared at the door and called for me to come and join him outside.  He pointed at the cup that was in my hand and said, “Look, you already have your ice cream.  Why do you want that other crap?”  I looked down and realized that I was holding an overflowing pint of delicious butter pecan.

Sometimes the meanings of my dreams are hard to decipher but these two seem pretty darn clear to me.  Don’t settle for things that aren’t quite right because I think that’s all I’m going to be able to get and remember that I already have what I need.  I am amused, however, that my subconscious chose to remind me of that fact using food as the meaningful object.

3 thoughts on “Precarious train tracks and butter pecan ice cream

  1. e

    I’d focus on the happy ending. I’d put up with quite a bit if I knew it was going to end with and overflowing pint of butter pecan.


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