Strange Dream

Last night I dreamt that I was a Czechoslovakian spy living in some kind of futuristic dystopia. I had to walk miles and miles along abandoned railroad tracks, and then I arrived at a tea room where I was served Korean delicacies. Suddenly I was taking a yoga class and had to figure out a way to pass secret information to my contact, despite the evil yoga teacher, who was also a high ranking official in the military.

What a ridiculous dream! I would never take a yoga class.

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7 Comments on “Strange Dream”

  1. Kelli says:

    Ha! A fine laugh you gave me this a.m.!

  2. Imogen says:

    I had a dream the other week that I was in an eastern block country having to hide my stuff from the gestapo – admittedly there were no yoga classes – I don’t think my twisted brain would go that far!

  3. Tara Zucker says:

    Kelli – thanks! I think my dreams are either quite amusing or very disturbing, depending on how you interpret them. I choose to look at them as amusing!

    Imogen – Oh no! Scary Nazis! Hate that!

  4. editor says:

    a yoga class? sounds like a nightmare!

    this morning, i had a dream that a certain rouge blogger posted pictures of me (pictures i had not given her) and provided hints about my actual street address.
    what could it mean?
    🙂

  5. Tara Zucker says:

    Editor – Oooh! Fascinating! Could be the fear of exposing too much of yourself online (I know – duh) or maybe — it could be a desire to go deeper and expose more? The rouge blogger could be your unconscious – the part of you that feels free to share your inner self? In your excellent post on LBR’s site, you talk about your childhood fear of being vulnerable in your house – with the flimsy locks on the glass doors. I wonder if those kinds of childhood fears ever go away?

    Perhaps my dream is about feeling fat in my yoga pants, which have never seen the inside of a yoga studio – I just wear them because they are comfy pants for sitting and writing all day.

  6. editor says:

    then those snug little bunnies are not yoga pants – they are sitting and writing pants! hooray.
    i like the excitement and risk you face in your dream – anomalies in a yoga class i think.
    i suppose i wrote something honest for lbr, and it made me feel exposed – now did i fear exposing myself to myself or to her readers? vulnerability, definitely not a popular flavor for myself, personally.


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