Can’t sleep, Miroslav will haunt me!

! This post was written long ago. What you're reading is not necessarily how I feel about things in 2017. This blog was started by an 18-year-old in 2001. Please, keep that in mind before you freak out.

I can't sleep. It's one of the most exhausting days of the entire year, St. George's day, and I should sleep, but I can't. I am thinking of how I went to four different places eight years ago, ate four huge meals and then almost yelled for help all night long. I am thinking of our neighbour's yummy pasta salad that I wouldn't miss for anything in the world. I am thinking of how many more blossoms my three black locusts will have in, say, 12 hours' time. I am thinking of a total of FIVE clients I am currently working for and my bad, bad timing. I am thinking of my next personal project, too.

But what makes me restless more than anything else is my dream from last night. I usually don't get dreams with men involved, which makes sense as I have never been in a functional relationship, I don't really have a drive and I don't lust over every other remotely attractive person, but sometimes I do get an imaginary perfect man visiting me in dreams. And my taste is not socially acceptable. All the people I considered to be somewhat cute were either not tall enough or underweight (funny, none of them were both), had one or two physical flaws, never into too much grooming and more or less doing life-threatening things, either as a part of their day job or in some other way.

So, my brain cells were extremely nice to me last night and they sent me some sort of a perfect man, in a dark room, in a romantic, though still g-rated situation. I thought that all possible dreams were coming true, as this hybrid character had everything I liked and liked all the things I liked.

And what happens next?
Subconsciousness is creating me a husband!

It literally photoshops out my perfect man, erases everything he is on the inside and suddenly, there's someone news next to me. He's really tall, has a white-collar stereotypical pair of glasses and a rather boring, bookworm haircut, he's dressed as someone who spends his days in an office, he's clean-shaven, talks about really boring things and he is, apparently, married to me, though I didn't take his last name. And what's his first name: Miroslav!

Miroslav, according to his made-up last name, is apparently from Slovenia or Croatia, has a job of a vice-president in some small but stable export/import company, likes dark blue furniture, thinks I need to work as a secretary at his company and is glad because he's married a native Belgrader (something my father is proud of to an unhealthy level...let's say that I'm the seventh generation of my family in this city!). The only thing he doesn't like is that I said some other name when I tried to kiss him. He asked me: "And who's that?" Not knowing what else to say because I have no idea where the other imaginary guy's name came from, I say: "An old flame!"

The strangest thing about this dream is that I perfectly know who this Miroslav is and am accepting the fact that he's my husband, yet it appears that I have married him solely for one reason - to be married to someone whom a stereotypical society values a lot. He looks normal, he acts normal, he has a normal, boring job, he makes enough money to support both himself and me and he doesn't do anything other than watching TV and solving crossword puzzles for fun.

But I can see where this came from. Whenever I get annoyed about certain aspects of my life, I either tell myself that I'll find a sperm donor when I turn 30 and have my own child without needing an actual man for that; or that I'll go find the first boring, not-so-creative and not-so-intelligent person and marry them to make my parents and relatives happy and to stop having everyone give me weird looks at family gatherings. Looks like my subconsciousness played with that second extreme opinion and sent me exactly what I wanted: a polar opposite of me.

If I go to bed now, will this Miroslav haunt me? I don't want Miroslav! I don't know whom I want, I don't know if I'll ever want anyone again, but I definitely don't want a Miroslav.

One Reaction to Can’t sleep, Miroslav will haunt me!

  1. Marouk says...

    XDDDD tebi bolje nego meni


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