Confounding Dreams and Arrested Development

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you wake up shaking your head, wondering, "where in the hell did THAT dream come from?" I had one of those last night. It's one of those intensely private dreams that you're embarrassed to admit to any living soul -- but I guess the anonymity of the Internet will allow it:

I was in the bathroom stall at work, occupied with one of the usual tasks associated with the location, when all of a sudden, in walk four of my colleagues to have a meeting. I'm kind of stuck there for the moment, if you know what I mean, and can't get up or cover myself or even hide what I'm doing... I mumble out some sort of apology and they begin their meeting (although how they got that desk and four chairs into that tiny bathroom stall, I'll never know). The embarrassment continues as it remains obvious that I'm not just in there depositing the morning's coffee... but what's a girl to do? When the inevitable time comes to finish the task at hand -- well, it just seems to be too much to handle -- so I do a very perfunctory job of it (kind of like a five year old who's in a hurry to go back outside to play) and make my escape. The prevailing thought in my mind as I leave is, "boy am I going to have some serious skid marks." It's almost funny -- if it weren't so disturbing! I've read that bathroom dreams have to do with invasion of privacy and/or feeling as if you've been exposed. I'm not sure why I would feel that way... with the possible exception of my visit with the shrink at my neurologist's office the other day... but I didn't tell her anything I haven't already shared. I guess I'll add that to the "things that make ya go 'hmmmmm'" list.

On to other things. I had an interesting spat with my DH last night (dear husband for those who need a glossary of terms -- although last night, the 'd' could have stood for a variety of other, less endearing terms.) We were playing Jenga -- a game we've never played before, but one I thought would be fun. Boy, was I wrong. Several minutes into the first game, DH topples the tower and loses the game. We reset the blocks and start over. Once again, he topples the tower and then morphs in to a petulant six year old! "I don't like this game... Let's play UpWords" in the most obnoxious, whiney voice I've heard since the last time my nieces (who exceed his emotional age by one year) were here. We reset the blocks again and he continues with the "sore loser" stuff and plucks my last nerve. I, quite purposefully, topple the tower and start putting away the game. I inform him that he's behaving like a 6 year old, to which he replies, "well, why don't you leave me and marry a forty year old," to which I quip, "I'd sooner be single, thank you." Well, true to his typical form, he storms out of the house and comes back with his TRUE love, a bottle of booze... once again confirming what I've known for a while now... he is the epitome of arrested development.

I fully understand why -- he WAS, after all, shipped off to boarding school at the ripe old age of nine and was shifted from school to school - spending holidays alone or with the head master or staff... poor little rich boy... we all have our stories of hardship. The thing is, some of us get on with our lives, and some continue to wallow in the muck and mire of things past that can never be changed and that only serve to perpetuate the misery. My prescription for him would be exorcism... no, I don't mean the Catholic version... I mean the getting-real-with-yourself, put-the-past-behind-me, wrest-control-of-my-life from the dark side kind. Unfortunately, I think that would require some professional intervention, since he's simply not equipped to go there... and I simply lack the strength of character to go there with him. Next time I order from the menu of life, I think I'm ordering mine "well done."