Do ya’ll think it’s significant that the only dream I remember from last night involved cake?
In real life (not in the dream) I made a devil’s food cake, with chocolate icing and purple sugar sprinkled on top, for the Resident Sith Master’s birthday. I made the cake on Sunday, and we have been happily munching on its sweet sinfulness ever since.
Well, obviously not every minute of “ever since.” A piece of cake here, a piece of cake there… ya’ll know. I try to control myself.
Yes, this is me controlling myself. Yes, I know, if this is control, ya’ll would hate to see me let myself go. Hush up. Ya’ll are makin’ me digress.
Last night, I had a reasonable size – I said hush up – piece of cake after dinner. (In real life, not the dream.) Then I put the bowl over the cake again to keep it fresh. I don’t have one of those cake stand thingies with the lid, so I just flip my big purple plastic bowl (with black bats on it – a happy post-Halloween-sale acquisition… but I digress) upside down and put it over the cake plate. Keeps the cake fresh, and out of sight. Not that I can forget there’s chocolate cake in the house. Even when I’m not actually in the house. Oh, wait, digressing again…
There was a good one-fourth or even one-third of the cake left when I went to bed.
Last night (in the dream, not in real life), I dreamed that I took the lid off the cake and there was only a very very thin slice left. Supermodel thin, even.
Now, ya’ll, even in my sleep, I know the birthday person gets to eat the last piece of birthday cake. I knew I had to leave the thin slice of cake for RSM.
So no cake for me. I was very sad, and more than a bit angry. Stupid lack of cake.
And then I woke up.
What do you think it means?
And yes, I woke up craving chocolate cake, and no, I didn’t have any but yes, I did check the cake this morning before I left the house. There is still plenty of cake left. Plus, I have another cake mix and another can of frosting and I can just make another cake my own damn self if I want. Plus I have the wherewithal to acquire more cake makings. I’m an adult with my own car and my own money. I could have chocolate cake with every meal every day for the rest of my life if I wanted to.
I could LIVE on chocolate cake and diet soda, and no one could stop me. Bwahahahaha!
Oh, sorry, got carried away there. End digression.
My question to my very wise BFF and our very wise readers is:
What is my subconscious trying to tell me with the metaphor of the paper-thin slice of cake that I can’t eat?
Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope. (And by “Obi Wan Kenobi” I mean “ya’ll.”)
And also, can ya’ll believe I can write this much about cake? I bet you can. Cake cake cake.
“Stop talking about the cake!” *
Saturday Night Live Lily Tomlin quote for my sister. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t read the blog, and who can blame her when there are posts about nothing but CAKE, but anyway… that joke’s for you, sis.