"I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams." – Hamlet
I had a nightmare last night.
I dreamed I was taking a test in school, a very difficult test I hadn’t studied for, about recipes. The test questions were ridiculously detailed, asking how many cups of sugar for one recipe and how many cups of flour for another.
I knew I was going to fail.
And the worst part was not having something everyone else in the class who was taking the test had: a baby. Every single other young woman in the room was taking the test while holding onto a baby in one arm. All the babies were sleeping.
I was given a baby when I walked into the room, but my baby kept fussing and babbling and it was taken away from me.
Not only was I about to fail the test, I was about to fail and my baby had been taken away from me.
Now, time to play armchair psychologist on myself.
Subconsciously I must feel I am failing at life because I cannot remember how to cook, am terribly unprepared for life’s tests and have no baby.
… I don’t have to remember how to cook, though. That’s why I have recipe cards, the backs of cake mix boxes (which I only sort of listen to, and then add a bunch of stuff anyway) and the internet.
Have a better interpretation? Post it here. Make me giggle!