Are
you afraid of clowns? Like many people from my generation you can blame my fear
of clowns to Stephen King’s IT being made into a movie. I remember being scared
of walking near gutters, turning the faucet in the bathroom sink on, and taking
a shower even. Every kid my age had the same feeling and whenever we see a
clown nowadays we are reminded of how frightened we were 20 years ago.
Of
course, it became part of my basic nightmares, which also included ghosts, and
people close to me suddenly turning into monsters or ghouls. I dream quite
vividly so you could say that even a little nightmare would leave me with an odd
feeling for the rest of the day.
Nowadays,
I don’t usually have these kinds of nightmares, and if I do, they don’t have
the same effect as they did before, I’m older now so maybe I outgrew them.
Instead, I’ve figured out that what I call nightmares today is stuff that could
actually happen to me. For example:
- My brother moving in with me. OK, I know he’s my brother and I love him
and all, yadda yadda yadda, but the thing is, I’m too used to living alone,
doing my own thing, and in my nightmare I just knew my brother would take over
everything and I’d be stuck with all the responsibilities and cleaning after him.
I remember telling my Mom, -in my dream she was delivering the news- “Only if
he does his own laundry, pays half of everything and brings his own TV and pays
for his extra cable line, cause I’m not sharing.” Fun fact: after realizing it
was only a dream, I made up my mind that those would be the conditions he’d
have to follow for me to allow him to move in with me.
- Going on a trip and not packing the essentials. This one started out as
a great dream, I was with my parents and they told me we’d be going to the
beach at Padre Island, Texas, which is a few hours from where they live. I
was so excited and couldn’t wait to get there and as I told them that I’d get
my stuff ready my Mom tells me “No need, honey, I packed for you”. The latter
half of that sentence was in slow motion and her voice lower and lower. Chaos.
I opened the bag she had packed for me and I realized she didn’t even put my
cell phone, my book or ANY book would’ve been tolerable, or my headphones. My Dad not wanting to go back to the house so I could pick these stuff up wasn’t
pretty either.
- My dog running off to the street and into traffic. Enough said.
- OK, so this one is my IT for adulthood. I’m wearing this really cute
skirt and I’m out and about in the city, meeting my friends, walking my dog, I’m
showing off my chicken legs like it’s nobody’s business and I’m loving it. Life
is great. It’s the end of the day in my dream and I suddenly look down and
notice that all this time I had forgotten to shave my legs. And by ‘all this
time’ I mean all winter, apparently. There I am, wearing my aforementioned cute
skirt along with what look like the legs of a hippie who has a ‘herb’ garden in
her backyard and an eggplant as a pet. I’m sobbing in frustration and
embarrassment and swear never to go out into the world again. The end.
The morning after that nightmare, I made
sure my legs were smoothly shaved even if I wasn’t planning on wearing a skirt
or short. Just as I used to avoid gutters, I did it just to be safe.
Featured imageby AleG
