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I will help you if you can help me. Last night I dreamed I had to stand in for Beyonce in a concert. My pasty white skinned, red haired self. No one thought it was a big deal and out I was pushed on stage. I sang a few songs then they gave me a wig. I guess so I would look more like her? lol I did a few more songs, someone in the audience said I wasn't Beyonce and they told the person to basically be quiet. Then Beyonce showed up and finished the set.
I honestly have no idea about your dream, just thought I would throw mine out. Maybe yours will seem less weird by comparison?
Let's see: armchair analysis - you are being asked to do something that you think is way beyond your reach but everyone else thinks you can do it. You feel like they (or you) are trying to disguise yourself into being any good at it so no one will know, when you're found out no one else cares because you do OK......
Basic imposter's dream. I am denying myself that I am good at something because I cannot accept that I am good at it.......
So what is it you're good at? Is it singing or something unrelated entirely??
Quote:
I will help you if you can help me. Last night I dreamed I had to stand in for Beyonce in a concert. My pasty white skinned, red haired self. No one thought it was a big deal and out I was pushed on stage. I sang a few songs then they gave me a wig. I guess so I would look more like her? lol I did a few more songs, someone in the audience said I wasn't Beyonce and they told the person to basically be quiet. Then Beyonce showed up and finished the set.
I honestly have no idea about your dream, just thought I would throw mine out. Maybe yours will seem less weird by comparison?
Let's see: armchair analysis - you are being asked to do something that you think is way beyond your reach but everyone else thinks you can do it. You feel like they (or you) are trying to disguise yourself into being any good at it so no one will know, when you're found out no one else cares because you do OK......
Basic imposter's dream. I am denying myself that I am good at something because I cannot accept that I am good at it.......
So what is it you're good at? Is it singing or something unrelated entirely??
Oh no, I am only good at singing in the shower, lol. That was why I thought it was extra funny. Hmm something that I am good at..I will have to get back to you.
They gave me a new pain med yesterday, best I've felt in a month or two, I even got to sleep thru the night. I wouldn't say I was depressed, more of frustrated with the whole wheelchair thing. My dream last night was off as well (medication always gives me odd dreams):
In my dream we move to michagan because it's cheap enough for mr saddi, and I vetoed the other places also cheap enough (three mile island, some place that's "world capital of tornados" etc.). We get there and the house needs to be retrofitted for my chair and counters lowered. Because of material thefts, mr saddi decided to stay there. Since I need working wifi for the boys schooling and my grad school, boyd offers us a room, for the month. Mrs boyd is off having the baby and his bevy of daughters decide they don't need to do chores, and giant mounds of teenage girl laundry fill the house, while I try to remind them thier parents will be home soon. The dream ended with laundry bot and I trying to scrub the house like crazy while dirty gym socks and moody teen girls surround us.
Woke up and phoned boyd to tell him while the dream was fresh... he's still laughing.
man, Saddi, I don't know if I'd take those meds again, good sleep or not. Every woman knows that hell is an eternal pile of laundry, boyd's moody girls on top of it means something really bad.
man, Saddi, I don't know if I'd take those meds again, good sleep or not. Every woman knows that hell is an eternal pile of laundry, boyd's moody girls on top of it means something really bad.
As long as it doesn't conflict with my hip surgery, I'd offered to fly out and help for a week or two wrangling the kids so mrs boyd could rest once the baby's here. I can't imagine 8 kids and a newborn. Boyd's son and mine are the same age, and the baby's due middle of summer, when all the kids are off school. I've been happily sewing a layette and other baby things to take my mind off my hip.
man, Saddi, I don't know if I'd take those meds again, good sleep or not. Every woman knows that hell is an eternal pile of laundry, boyd's moody girls on top of it means something really bad.
I don't know much about Boyd or his girls, but hell is for sure an unending mound of laundry!
Well if chuckie cheese's is the entrance to hell, would anyone think it odd if I said I always felt the post office is what purgatory would be like?
All that waiting.... the quiet.... the buzzing flourescent lights... the way you can tell outside exists because you see it out the windows, but you just can't FEEL it at all.
Maybe I am crazy, but I feel almost as funny in the post office (of any city) as I do in Christian churches.