Making Up, a Garbage Disposal, and a Puppet

MORNING OF MAY 6, 2010

For some reason I was in the apartment of an ex-girlfriend. We ended up talking and in no time it seemed sparks were flying and we were back together again. For real life context: Like any relationship, the one I had with this ex has its pleasant memories, but it's not a relationship I long to--or ever would--go back to in real life.

Even in the dream it felt weird to be back together. Something felt "off". I wish I could remember the story in the dream. Instead I just remember vaguely spending time with her and talking and just generally being together. I do remember going to some outdoor event along a riverbank in the early evening. We were walking, along with many other people, along a pier. All the while I kept wondering why I was doing this and telling myself not to. But I was having fun.

At some point in the dream I ended up in what looked like the kitchen at the place where I work. In the cabinet under the sink a large, square contraption that I recognized to be the garbage disposal took up most of the space. Unlike a real garbage disposal, this unit was not manual. It was timed to go off every so often, whether any garbage was in it or not.

For some reason my family's geriatric dog, Einstein, was with me. He crawled into the garbage disposal box and went to sleep. I tried to coax him out but he wouldn't come. It was impossible to physically reach him in there, so I ran to get help. My goal was to find someone who could turn off all the power to the building until we got Einstein out, to insure the disposal wouldn't start up while he was in there.

I ended up in some kind of auditorium where a lot of people were gathered in seats facing a stage with a podium, as if waiting to listen to a speaker of some sort. There was actually a walking track encircling the upper level of this auditorium, and that's where I was, looking down on the rest. Suddenly I realized I had a Kermit the Frog puppet on one arm.

I can do a passable Kermit voice, so I began talking like Kermit while circling the walking track. The audience below began to watch, and they were very amused. I remember one point on the track had a patch of broken glass. It was obvious it came from broken decorative Christmas balls. I had to remember to skip around it every time I reached that area on my laps, because I was barefoot.

So my "Kermit" show went on for some time, until I suddenly remembered I was supposed to be telling someone to turn the power off for Einstein's sake. As soon as I remembered this, I took off running back to the kitchen area. I even remember running right through the broken glass on the track in my efforts to get there.

When I was finally back in the work kitchen, my mom there was for some reason, eating a meal at the counter. I asked her if she knew if anyone had turned off the power yet, and then explained why. She jumped up and looked in the cabinet and proclaimed, angry and upset, that Einstein was now dead.

The horrible guilt and sadness woke me almost instantly. I had slept through my alarm and was late.