When I have dreams I don’t know most or sometimes any of the other people playing a part. It’s like I’m reading a novel in first person. Often times I’m not even myself like in this dream I appear to be Mexican.
I’m baking pies and cookies and my cell phone won’t stop ringing. Apparently I have a talkative friend. So my husband and daughter decide they want to go out for ice cream. First I tell them I can’t because I’m busy but for some odd reason they can’t or won’t go without me which doesn’t make any sense.
My husband is on his cell phone and he tells my daughter they will go after his conversation is over. She gets mad and starts arguing and I get tired of hearing it so I say, “I’m going” and I leave.
I head down the street, look down and realize I have no shoes on. (I never go anywhere, not even outside without shoes on.)
Not only that but I still have my mixer in my hand and I’m wearing an apron. I look back and there’s a long extension chord attached and so far I have plenty to spare so I keep going to a little store at the end of the block. Inside there is a woman that works there talking on the phone. (Everybody’s on the phone in this dream.) The clerk is Mexican too.
I try to reach past her to a refrigerator for a drink but it’s a very small store and I can’t so I say, “Can you hand me that Blue Mist.”
A black girl sitting at the counter says, “She’s been on that damn phone since I came in here.”
I say, “She’s always busy.”
Looking down at the floor I see that the entire floor is covered with record albums. The black girl says, “I’ve never heard of that one.” Pointing to one with a woman that looks like Ayo on the front.
I tell her, “That’s my favorite song, I had a hard time finding it but found an old one online.”
The song is Blue Mist.
Now as far as I know I have never heard a song called Blue Mist nor do I like a drink by that name.
I put in a search on YouTube and found this. Not bad. Now I gotta find a blue mist drink and my life will be complete.
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