Envy

This morning I woke up with the final remains of my dream still swirling around in my head. I was driving with two other people (I think one of them was my mom) to Boston to pick up some stuff for a banquet. We got to a building, and took the stairs to go to the floor we needed. It was a high floor, and by the time I woke up I was up to the 50th or 81st or something like that. Getting up the stairs became an obstacle course of sorts; going down, then up, with little puzzles and tests to get to the next floor. Then there was a dinosaur that I had to kill to get to the next level. Anyway, long and nonsensical story short, The dragon was Envy and I had to kill it, which was extremely difficult. I think I finally woke up because I gave up (although I think I was winning, truth be told).

I wonder if my brain is trying to tell me something. Am I envious? Of what? Of whom? I suppose there are plenty of people I would be willing to trade places with, but I wouldn't say I'm all that envious (the monster in my dream at only point morphed into a flourescent green Linda Blair-ish woman with flourescent pink eyes, lips, and finger nails) of anyone in particular.

Perhaps it comes from the envy I feel towards the life I thought I would have. I would say I am jealous of that other version of me the I thought I would become. All the things I would have. All the people that would love me. All the places I would go. All the things I would accomplish. That version of me is probably wandering around out there instead of being here in me where she is supposed to be. Stupid girl.