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baby in a bag

February 2, 2011

It appears that I’ve been watching a little too much How I Met Your Mother lately, as one the main characters cropped up in my dream. I’m halfway through season four; I expect to get through the rest of it today. Unlike that laugh-riot of a show, the dreamworld was harsh and barren last night, and altogether not very fun. Also, I just realized my lip is bleeding. Ugh. Winter.

In the first dream, I am working at a middle school. Barney Stinson is one of the students at the school. I’d say he’s probably in 7th or 8th grade, right around the time when people start to become real jackasses. I’m supposed to make a bulletin board about him and his awesome grades, but he hasn’t finished one of his tests yet. The other teachers keep glaring at me for not finishing the bulletin board, but what can I do? I’m not about to lie for Barney. And yes, even as a young lad, he had suited up.


I am searching for a place to sleep overnight on the street. A woman finds me, or I find her, and I follow her to her “home,” at the bottom of a short concrete stairwell off a main road. It is very cold out. I congratulate the woman on finding something as spacious as the bottom of this stairwell. It is covered in trash bags, blankets, and winter coats, along with some miscellaneous garbage. “Where’s the girl?” is the only thing I say to her, and it suddenly becomes apparent to me that I’ve arrived at the stairwell to rescue a suffocating baby. The woman points to a plastic bag that’s all tied up in a bundle. I reach over to the bundle and stare at it for a moment: it is a baby wrapped in blankets, then covered in plastic for warmth. The baby’s breath shows on the plastic bag, and it looks very peaceful and warm. I momentarily regret that I must take the child out of the plastic, because I feel the cold air will kill it instantly. I untie the handles of the bag and allow the baby to breathe freely, covering it in some extra blankets. The woman needs to go back out, and I get the sense she won’t be returning. Her prized stairwell spot and her baby are all mine.


I am searching for a baby in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. The world is dark, with lots of burned-up trees and a red horizon. I find the child in a saloon, blood-drenched because saloon patrons have been beating it for sport. I feel terrible about it, and ask the patrons to leave the child alone. Someone throws an axe and it hits the wall. I take the child and leave, but once I get back outside, it’s as though the kid never existed, and I am once again alone.


I’m with Pete in an S.U.V. The night is clear and bright, with many stars. We pull into my old childhood driveway, but on the wrong side (my house was the A side, and we pulled into the B side). With tiny lanterns strung up and colorful patterns everywhere, the driveway feels like a campground. The oldest daughter of my neighbor, who is probably 30 by now, is there. Pete apologizes to her for parking on the wrong side, but called her Catherine instead of Ann. I am embarrassed.

One Comment leave one →
  1. February 17, 2011 4:35 pm

    You can totally tell what was influencing your dreams this night, my friend!! 🙂

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