Memoirs of a Fat Girl

I had a dream last night that I was trying on sexy, strappy sandals in a well-lit, impossibly shiny store. Lo and behold I found a gorgeous pair that fit me (an impossibility in my daily life since I have huge feet) and flattered my legs to the tee. Joyful and ecstatic, I whipped out the plastic with flair, and sashayed my way to the cash.

This is the part where the dream became a nightmare, because Billy the simian stockboy had by then thrown every single shoe in the entire store into a gigantic pile on the floor. Mine included.

Apparently when I'm asleep I still know how hard it is to find sexy sandals (which is shitty because I should at least be able to have smaller feet in my subconscious), and went berserk. With employees la-dee-da ing and picking their noses, by dream's end I was frantically elbows up in a mountain of shoes, throwing them in every which direction, trying to locate the pair that I wanted.

Clearly, we have conflict. Let's get a second opinion.

Sigmund Freud: "This dream is an acute example of childhood sexual trauma. The shoes are rape, Billy the simian stockboy is the rapist, and the despair with the shoe mountain is frustration, anger and helplesness."

Nope. Moving along.

Carl Gustav Jung: "Our daily lives manifest themselves as symbolis in dreams. The shoes are symbolic of something you want that was taken away, and that is what you are desperately trying to get back."

Better. The shoes are something I want. The shoes are something that is in reach, but I don't own. I found what I wanted, tried it on and admired the perfect fit. I stupidly trusted others to ring it through, but instead all was lost. Now I'm elbows up trying to find what I want, panicking that I will never see it again.

Makes so much sense it's scary. I found my dream, I lost my dream, I'm frantically whipping around other dreams in the form of shoes, spotlight on me, while others wander around completely oblivious to my misfortune.

But really, I needn't worry so much. I'm already in the store, I've tried them on and they fit. No one has stolen anything; they were just temporarily misplaced. If I stick to my guns and keep digging, I'll get to the bottom of the pile. I will find my shoes, get back to the cash, and then take them home.

And really, I needn't over-analyze all the time either. It could just be that the spring collections are out, and I'm really overdue for sexy sandals.