So mad at an imaginary person


 I am a foamfighter. I play Belegarth. That is only tangentially important to the rest of this post.

     I had recently finished a new garb project that includes a skirt because I really wanted to make a skirt. I had a dream that I went into urgent care for some reason still in garb. There were other people in the parking lot in garb as well so dream-me is not feeling out of place (though awake me still wonders what tragedy befell that day's practice). 

     I go in, and as I'm signing in I feel the back,of my skirt being lifted up. I turn around and the guy is obviously startled because I'm a dude. I put my hand in his chest and start yelling at him, "What the fuck's your problem? You think that's okay? Just no fucking shame you piece of shit this is why we can't make any social progress." As I'm yelling I realize my voice is coming out squeaky and kinda quiet like when I'm sick.
   
     This guy looks younger than me and puts on this "rolling to intimidate face" and says, "what are you like 20?  Go back to, the coffee shop or you'll miss your shift faggot."
 "I'm 34 you piece of trash and my age is irrelevant. I've been in the military 15 years and you and your other garbage-people buddies that never figured out how to keep your hands to yourself are threatening the stability and reliability of my military and my country. if it was up to me I'd have your ass deported so you couldn't fuck up the national metrics." (For the record hes wasn't anymore "foreign looking" than I am, but if you send your problems away, they don't count as yours anymore, right?)

     The nurse at the reception desk calls my name and my alarm goes off as I'm walking over. I wake up and in so mad at that guy. I drive to work. I'm so fucking mad at that guy.

      2 hours after waking up I go and post on Tumblr about it hoping to clear it from my mental queue.  I was mad for like 3 days because some imaginary dude showed complete lack of respect for my personal space just because I was wearing a skirt in a dream I had. It was a couple of weeks before I told anyone the story, and I came out in a conversation about spouses being, mad at you for something they dreamed you did. 

     Now like a month later I tell the story kinda laughingly, but I'm really still mad, only with myself because this whole thing was a product of my unconscious mind.

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