Dream with interesting subtext in 2021

So, I had a dream. I don’t remember many of mine, so that’s new. In the dream, I had two relationships: a childhood friend (female) who was showing off things she’d bought (possibly to resell?) and for some reason I felt those things were at least part mine so I was horribly offended when she quoted me a price (they were musical bracelets - like a wearable IPod, but slim and neoprene.) She was charging $22. I was horribly pissed at this but I don’t know why.

Next section of the dream, Spouse and I were at “marriage therapy.” But of course it wasn’t marriage therapy, it was tremendously one sided. For one thing, the room was full of couples. For another, we were supposed to have intimate contact in this room with these people except it was totally one sided - just for him. I was supposed to give him a handy, for the curious, and I did, but while I did it, I wasn’t supposed to be touched, talked to, cuddled, nothing. I wasn’t even supposed to be looking his direction. I was supposed to be looking down at the floor. I did look up for the end, and I vaguely remember being told to be ashamed of myself. What, like being used for an orgasm wasn’t more shameful than where my head ended up? I’m not getting this part.

However, once spouse was done with the marriage therapy and all the “wives” had been dismissed (without kisses, thank yous, or anyfuckingthing) I was back at that storage unit that my friend was renting for her stuff. I broke in - well, I knew all the codes - and I took exactly four of her bracelets (but I don’t know why I needed four.) On my way out of the storage unit, I passed the security guard, and I held up the bracelets. I told him they were mine but if he wanted the $88 that was fine, but I would not be paying my friend. Nope.

Woke up feeling super guilty - and super angry. That friend was the daughter of the guy who I think molested me as a preteen, although I am not sure. I do know he drugged me to sleep for years. He’d always insist I needed a Dr. Pepper before we all headed to bed (yes all, and yes that seemed fine to young me - I never questioned a dad and kid snoozing together.) I never slept so hard or so long as I did over at their house, and yes, I did wake up sore in weird ways every now and again, and there was a time we thought I had my period early (I was like 9?) because of the blood. But it might not have been him, but it might have been. He did admit to the sleeping pills. I still can’t drink Dr. Pepper. I can handle the generic, but…no, not the actual soda. It’s not the taste, you see, because when I had it as a girl, it was always bitter as shit. It’s the bottle art.

Anyway. Where was I even going? I haven’t spoken to that friend since before I was 11. Don’t know where she came from. The odd sex part might be a brain fart from finishing Beautiful You by Chuck Palahniuk: it has heavy sex toy usage (it’s a plot element.) However, the book is centered on female self indulgences, not the male one, and I didn’t find the book erotic - it was more of a scream. The dream was also not erotic. Actually, it was quite the opposite. I just felt angry, dirty, and used.

I challenged myself to come up with thirty plots this month, but I started last week, so I have some time to flub. I have about seven. Some of them are short stories I think, some of them might be longer pieces. Maybe I’ll find something in my head I like. A lot of them are centering on artistic rivalries: I have a chef who is training a tv-show cook for the tv show or possibly she is his replacement and he’s pissed either way, and I have a battle-of-the-bands to make an awesome preshow for some imaginary rock star who doesn’t allow the premade bands to work together, no, he insists on taking the best person in each category and then demanding new music. It’s an interesting premise.

Work is going well, but I am very anxious about the end of this investigation phase I’m undergoing. I feel very naked, particularly since I had to replace my car and now I have a significant car payment and if I can’t work this job, I am afraid I will not be able to get another one in a social work field, which is fucking terrifying because I owe 50k for these two degrees that I will, of course, not be able to pay back, plus the car, plus all the independence I’ve found…

I will really miss the independence. If I lose my job and the car, he’ll never let me out again.