When I went to bed after eating three or four Krispy Kremes (always a mistake), I found myself tossing and turning throughout the night.
At first, I got a little nervous. My roommate and her family invited some sort of psychic/witchdoctor into their circle in order to address various personal issues… Apparently, my roommate’s twin sister lost some of her “energy field” at birth and it’s in the possession of my roommate. While it’s most likely all a bunch of hubbub, this psychic was supposed to mentally enter our San Francisco apartment last night and return this energy to her twin sister in Brooklyn.
I’m the kind of person who grew up in a family where paranoia ran rampant. When I was going to the beach, my grandmother repeatedly said that I was going to be eaten by a shark.
The cycle still continues. After I wrote about dinner fools, my Mom called me and asked if I was a “prostitute”. After I told her no, she asked about people that I had gone out with. When I told her I had a date with someone from Oklahoma, she responded, “You know who else was from Oklahoma?… Timothy Mcveigh!”
Long story short, when someone tells me that some psychic’s aura will be Ouija boarding it throughout my house, I tend to hyperventilate.
When I finally fell asleep, I had a very vivid experience. I was swimming underwater, but I was able to breathe. I began to hear music. I thought it was theme from Donkey Kong Country’s “Croctopus Chase” level… which would have kind of made sense, since I was underwater and all. As the music got louder, I got angry and excited all at once. It evolved into a tune that resembled the intro to “The Boy Is Mine.” But that wasn’t right either.
I kept swimming.
Suddenly, I saw a figure at the bottom of the ocean, standing and waiting. It was as if I was looking in a mirror. As I swam closer and closer, I realized something — the music that surrounded me was clearly the intro to Sally Jessy Raphael’s talk show.
Thinking that it was the intro to “The Boy Is Mine” or “Croctopus Chase” was an honest mistake, since the songs sound exactly the same. And yes, the figure that was standing and waiting was not myself, but Sally Jessy Raphael.
“Sally Jessy?”
“Yes, Scott Masters,” she responded.
We then chatted about life and whatnot. The dream became something that can only be described as a gay version of Star Wars, mostly because Sally Jessy was acting as my Obi Wan Kenobi. She talked about how our souls were linked and that she decided to pass along some of her energy field to me.
We hugged and the transference took place.
Sally Jessy Raphael. Age: 74. Occupation: Successful TV/radio host.
Scott Masters Pierce. Age: 24. Occupation: ?
“You now have the strength to get what you want – a great, high paying job that you will love.”
“But Ryan Seacrest already has a job.”
“No buts. Now, go!”
I swam to the surface, still surrounded by Sally Jessy’s theme song. When I reached the top, the sunlight blinded me. I wiped the water from my face. I was alone, in the middle of the ocean, with no land or people in sight. Then, a shark ate me.
That was the end of the dream.
What this means, I don’t know. Perhaps it was an actual transference that took place because some psychic was roaming around my apartment. Maybe it means that sometime in the future, I will host a lowbrow talk show and read off cards that have my name on the back. It may mean that I was thinking of my grandmother. Or, it means nothing.
Most likely, I had one too many doughnuts.
All I know is this — during in my unemployed days, vivid dreams with job themes are becoming more and more common. Sometimes, they are totally depressing, sometimes they are thoroughly uplifting, and sometimes they involve Sally Jessy.
