The Inappropriate Dream

Photo credit: n.gottier

This weekend, my folks invited me for lunch and so, on a rainy afternoon, I set out for the cross-country drive to their house.

I was sitting at some traffic lights on my own in the car, humming along to Glee, when all of a sudden I had this feeling like I’d had an embarrassing conversation I couldn’t quite remember.

I thought for a moment and this notion popped into my head that I’d told someone I had always had a thing for them. Except I couldn’t work out who I’d have said that to, or when. I’ve been working solidly since we got back from Italy, after all.

Then suddenly, it hit me. Oh my God.

Last night I had The Inappropriate Dream.  

I’m hoping like heck you guys know about The Inappropriate Dream. It’s not just a dream that happens to be a bit saucy. And it’s often not even a dream about someone you’ve ever thought about in *that* way in real life.

No. The Inappropriate Dream is almost always a bolt out of the blue, and involves you doing something acrobatic and blush-inducing with someone completely random – and sod’s law dictates it’s probably someone you know in a professional context, and with whom you’ll have to have some uber-important meeting in the coming weeks.

This of course means you’ll spend the entire meeting trying to talk about the pros and cons of various social media metrics, but in fact you’ll be blinded by the horrifying mental image of exactly what you did on the kitchen table at that party, in the dark and worrying corners of your subconscious.

So you will (or I will, at least) spend the entire time stammering and trying not to blush, thereby convincing your important professional contact that you are a complete MORON, and in fairness, they’re probably right. 

It’s not just me is it? Please tell me this happens to other people, too. 

ps – if you're reading this and wondering if The Inappropriate Dream was about you? It wasn't. It was about this guy who, um, lives in Bolivia. And, erm, herds goats. We've been talking about advertising. 

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *