{ Sunday, December 08, 2002 }

Anxiety Gets the Better of Me.

Last night I had one of the single most transparent dreams of my life. I like it when dreams come with a big flashing sign attached...

Okay, so, before the falling asleep and dreaming (you have to get the backstory in order for the sheer obviousness of this dream to take hold), I'd been out to dinner with Writer Guy. So, we all already know that I'm dealing in "fun speculation" about the status of that situation.

At one point he asks if I got lucky at a party the night before (after I whined here about not going out, I went out). I think he was joking, but I'm not sure. Anyway, speaks to casual. At another point he asks me if I've mentioned him to my mother (as he actually sent her an e mail with some career path questions, he decided the answer was yes. Mom and I never discussed who that e mail came from, so really, the answer is no. I chose not to correct him.). Speaks to relationshippy ideas...

I almost asked... my patented question... "How do you refer to me in terms of you?" The question that ended an era of dating between mary ann and BoyfriendFromHighSchool. I asked, I clarified ("I am your....") and we both said "friend" at the same time. As nice as the mutual break up is, I don't recommend that people leave their relationships until they are so dead that you can look eachother in the eye one day and declare yourselves friends with no hard feelings...

But, I didn't ask the question because I'm chickenshit. Because I didn't want to have that conversation when we were pressed for time (going to a move). Because I didn't want to have that conversation when I don't have anything useful to contribute to it. For all those reasons, and more, I didn't ask.

I think Kristie is right when she says he's probably trying to determine the same things I am trying to determine.

Right, okay, so with that extra puzzlement in hand, I fell asleep in his bed last night.

And I dreamt that we were walking down the hall in his building and we passed an open door. And there was a woman, a grown woman (Writer Guy is eight years older than me), in there. She had blonde hair and she was wearing a preppy sweater and cute jeans, but cute adult jeans, not cute twenty-two year old jeans. She was standing in front of a mirror, curling her (already perfect looking) hair. He was like "wait, hang on, I want to say hello to her."

She was standing in her bathroom with the door open and from where I was standing in the hallway I could see her. He walked over and kissed her. So, I walked into the apartment. He introduced me (and I'm pretty sure he mentioned that he was sleeping with me) while standing there with his arms around her.

We got back out into the hallway and I was like "That was weird" and he was like "Yeah, we're also dating"... And I totally played it cool (not reality, but whatever) and didn't flip out and demand to know why I didn't know he was having sex with other people... I just left and got on a bus and went home...

I promptly woke up to a very nice boy asking me if pancakes were okay for breakfast. And then woke up again because I was being presented with a plate of pancakes while still in the bed... I almost felt guilty for having such dreams (when presented with the cute boy with the pancakes) and so I didn't say anything. Also, I didn't think that my lingering dream anger needed to be in play when I did.

We went shopping and stuff and I didn't ask. I don't know how to ask. I don't know if I want to ask. But clearly, this absolutely status-less thing is getting to me.

posted by mary ann 10:52 AM