Monday, March 21, 2005

Indians and Silent Screaming

Frally posted a couple beautiful interpretations of her dreams the other night ("Cool Freaky Dreams"). Both were about her children and I loved the way she interpreted them.

I don't have any such wonderful dream memories, but I do have one I'll mention. It was a reoccurring dream I had when I was a child. It was short and to the point and I used to get to the stage where I hated falling asleep in case it was going to conjure up again. We lived in a two storey house way back then.

Here's my dream in a nutshell. I was being chased by a red indian, in full dress including a great feathered headband and he was brandishing a tomahawk. He would chase me up the stairs and down the hallway, and I ran into my brother's room to hide behind the door. He runs in slams the door and approaches me....I'm screaming my lungs out but there's no sound (and no, I aint so old that silent pictures were still playing in the theatres, savvy?). I'd wake up in a sweat.

Don't you really hate it when you're screaming in your dreams and you can't hear your own vocals??

Now, fast forward 30 years. I had a great weekend, drinking, eating, being merry etc. The key word in amongst that lot is eating. EATING! Yep, you guessed it. On Sunday in particular, I completely and utterly blew my WW points plan out of the atmosphere. I think I clocked up about 45 points. When I'm in fact only supposed to have 23. And if the truth be known, I actually ate 21 points just for breakfast alone. I felt I needed a 'hangover' brekky, and as such went to McDs and bought one.

Now, I've finally realised that my indian dream was indeed about my future (stay with me now). I reckon that that indian was depicting the weight watchers guru, who was giving me a future sign that I would fall to pieces only two weeks after starting this plan and was doing it's best to stop me. What do you reckon?? Am I right, or am I right??

Yep, I reckon I'm right. *dusts hands*

Anyway, with Monday being weigh in night, I went along to see the damage, and found I'd lost a paltry 700 grams. But hey, I still lost and I can deal with that. It's next week I'm concerned about...with Easter looming, I might just have to skip past the scales and yell "pass" at next Monday night.

PS: Canada has been blathering in my ear about how that 700 grams works out to be exactly 1.5625 pounds and that besides the fact that to him, I'm shit hot already, he's still proud of me for losing it. Way hey!
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