Dreams of Liver Pain

Not so great this morning. I woke up at 7:14 for some reason. I decided to try and get up, which lasted until about 9 when I fell back asleep and slept until after 11.

I had a couple dreams with a common thread. In the first one I was about 8 years old and my little friends were playing a game where they stole their friends’ clean underwear. I was the victim of one such expedition and while my friends were jumping and laughing, holding wads of my underwear in their hands I just played along. After this went on for some time it became obvious to me that these little hooligans had no intention of giving me my underwear back. I’ll pause here to say that a couple weeks ago I went out and bought a couple packs of tame, neutral underwear so that when doctors were prodding me they wouldn’t have to deal with bright blue lace or anything embarrassing like that. Back in the dream I started crying that I was sick and I needed that underwear for hospital purposes. They didn’t believe me and I started getting hysterical, “I’m sick! I’m sick! I need those! I have a liver disease!” It was awful, but I think the kids eventually compromised and gave me back half my underwear.

The second dream I had was where I was in this little walk-in salon. Someone else (a girl about my age with her father) was there getting some service at the same time. There was only one person working at the salon and there was only station at which to get your beauty needs taken care of. I had gotten there first and so I assumed I would be served first. The salon lady gave me these supplies I was supposed to mix together, which I did, and then she started talking to the other girl about what she wanted done. It was then that I realized the other girl was being served first and I had mixed up the beauty gunk wrong. I immediately admitted my mistake and apologized profusely.

I patiently waited my turn while the girl got her nails done (her father watching on). When I accidentally caught her eye I noticed that she was glaring at me with obvious hatred and disgust. That made me really mad since I’d already made amends for messing up her beauty time. I talked right to her and said, “I‘m sorry, do you have a problem with me?”
“Yeah I have a problem with you,” she snarled at me.
“Well I told you I was sorry. If you want me to pay for what I wasted I’ll be more than happy to do that,” I replied angrily.
“No!” she said with a look that clearly said she didn’t want my money defiling her beauty experience.
“Well, listen,” I said, “I’m not going to fight with you because I’m tired and don’t feel well. Just stop staring at me like I’m Hitler or something.”

I sat down again, but it wasn’t long before I felt something hot and pointy on my stomach. I looked down and saw that the father was using this hot pen that was supposed to draw nail polish designs on the desired nail. And he was using it on my stomach, right where my liver was and it hurt like crap. I jumped up and started yelling.
“What the hell is your problem?!” The father just shrugged.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” He shrugged again.
“I have a liver disease, you idiot! And guess where the liver is?” I pointed to the pink nail polish staining my shirt.
“I’m waiting for a transplant and you probably just messed things up big time!” The father didn’t seem to care at all, so I went on.
“I also have a bowel disease and guess where that is?” I pointed right below the nail polish stain. “Thanks for ruining my life!” I exaggerated. It was all so incredibly infuriating and unfair. How could anyone be so heartless? The daughter piped up then.
“You’re just a little bitch, so who cares?” I gave her a burning glare.
“Same to you!” I said “I was nothing but considerate to you and you had no right to treat me this way. Forget me ever paying a dime towards your nails.”

I picked up my jacket and said, “So suck,” picked up my purse, “on,” opened the door, “this!” And I let the door slam. I ran down the flights of stairs until then ended, but I did see the father come out and try to throw something at me.

When I woke up I was lying on my right side and so my liver hurt right where the dream nail polish had been. I know it doesn’t seem that bad, but that dream was one awful nightmare. And no, I don’t usually have a temper like that. Only in my dreams… :)