{"id":2917,"date":"2010-01-04T02:20:00","date_gmt":"2010-01-04T09:20:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/blog\/?p=2917"},"modified":"2010-01-04T02:20:00","modified_gmt":"2010-01-04T09:20:00","slug":"2917","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/?p=2917","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"

The night before last I dreamed that I was working somewhere, like a bed and breakfast so where I worked was also my home. I knew Shane, the guy I play basketball with, and he had gone over to the front counter with a red suitcase and asked them if they could mail it for him. When he left, I told the guy at the front desk that I would run it down to the post office for him since I was on my way anyway, but instead, I took it back to my cabin and opened it. I wanted clues to who he is. I found some old photos taken in Hawaii–I was looking for a girl, to see if he had a girl, but they were mostly of family. Then I noticed some older, random photos. The strange thing about all of them was that he wasn’t in any of them. He’s probably the one taking the pictures<\/em>, I thought. But still, it was strange. I didn’t really find anything else that shed any light on him or his life, and I had an overwhelming fear that I would get caught, that I would somehow leave some clue, drop some object inside the suitcase that would let him know that I’d been through his stuff. I’ve always been terrible at anything sneaky–I always get caught. So I put everything back and closed it up. He’d told the front desk he would be back in the afternoon so I didn’t have time to get it to the post office; I had to hide the suitcase. I figured I could either hide it in the garage (in a separate building), or in my cabin, places he wouldn’t go into. I absolutely did not want him finding out I went through the suitcase, both because then he would know I like him and also because it’s a stalker thing to do. Both of these reasons mortified me.<\/p>\n

So I decided to hide it in my cabin because that would be the last place he would go into, then went outside.<\/p>\n

He was there with a Filipino woman with short hair, a little chubby. Middle-aged. I looked at them together and I realized what his deal is–he’s divorced and carries emotional baggage from it. She had a small black kitten with her. She asked if she could put the kitten in my cabin, and I suddenly remembered he had made that request, that I watch a kitten for the week. I realized that if I let them into my cabin, they would see the suitcase. So I told her that I couldn’t keep the kitten in my cabin, but we could keep it in the garage, and he got really mad at me for why I was being so unkind and unreasonable with such a small request. I knew I looked like an asshole but I just could not let them inside my cabin.<\/p>\n

When I woke up, I felt really guilty. I could still remember how mad he was at me for not letting them inside the cabin, and I took it as a symbol of his potential anger if I step over one of his boundaries. I felt like I had somehow psychically tried to pry into this guy’s life, trying to get information he hadn’t been willing to openly share with me, and I’d gotten a big warning in my dream world to back off.<\/p>\n

I think the big message and meaning of the dream is exactly that…back off.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The night before last I dreamed that I was working somewhere, like a bed and breakfast so where I worked was also my home. I knew Shane, the guy I play basketball with, and he had gone over to the front counter with a red suitcase and asked them if they could mail it for […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2917","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/sbl5mn-2917","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2917","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2917"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2917\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2917"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2917"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2917"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}