#13: Guten Tag, Mu Shu Pork, Etc.
DREAM JOURNAL
Happy Friday!
I’m back with another dream analysis. Today’s dream comes from reader Michael Estrin and originally appeared in his newsletter Situation Normal. He’s got some seriously funny stuff in the archives. So check him out if you want more humor in your inbox! The following is from his recent NyQuil Dreams post.
Side note: I highly recommend the first real information you learn about a person to be an unhinged dream they had. I feel like I know more about Michael after three licks of his drugged-up subconscious than I could ever glean from hours of small talk. Human minds are wild and hilarious and so so weird.
Without further ado, Michael’s dream:
The Dream Without Subtitles
I am in a trench, which explains the trench coat.
It must be World War One in the dream, but obviously we don’t call it World War One because those of us in the dream don’t know there will be a sequel. So, I guess it’s The Great War.
Except, war isn’t so great. Because there’s lots of death and destruction all around me. And rats. Big hairy rats with tails as long as my fingers and teeth as sharp as the barbered wire strung up all around our trench.
Suddenly, there’s a boom. A big boom. Followed by another boom. And another boom. And another. This is artillery, and it sends everyone in the trench scurrying for cover.
I get the feeling like I’m supposed to do something about the artillery—something besides pissing my pants.
To my left, there’s a telephone. Maybe I should call someone, and maybe that someone can either return fire on our behalf, or ask the people who are shelling us to stop.
I reach for the phone, press the receiver to my ear, and begin to speak. But I have no idea what I’m saying because I’m speaking German.
Apparently, in my dreams, I’m a fluent German speaker. I speak for what feels like hours. My voice is guttural and harsh, just like the Germans in the movies.
My words work! The shelling suddenly stops. The grey sky turns blue. Birds begin to chirp. And all around me everyone is smiling and eating Chinese takeout.
Did I order the takeout?
I guess so.
Because now another German soldier is yelling at me in English, and he’s pissed.
“You didn’t order any mu shu pork! Why didn’t you order any mu shu pork, asshole?!”
The first thing that came to mind when reading this is that it’s a total man dream. Can I say that? Not to stereotype or anything, but this whole war fixation business is not part of the girl socialization starter pack. (Ladies, please prove me wrong if you’re out there dreaming of war trenches.)
It doesn’t surprise me that your NyQuiled mind sent you to a literal war zone in the middle of a global pandemic of which you were afflicted at the time of said dream. For two years, instead of huddling in trenches, we were hiding out at home, shielding ourselves from the enemy in our own little holes. Avoiding death, destruction, etc etc.
Let’s just hope your note about not realizing it was World War One isn’t prophesying the coming of a Global Pandemic Two.
And to answer your question, yes, I did get struck by lightning as I typed that. So sorry. I didn’t knock on wood fast enough to ward off the jinx. Pandemics are once in a blue moon, right? I mean, we did such a good job handling this first one, another would be a breeze!
The trench coat of it all interests me. Sure, it’s punny given the setting. (Good one, Michael’s brain!) But it also adds a layer of superficial defense. No offense, but a trench coat is not very appropriate attire for a World War. Sounds like dream you was ill-prepared.
Trench coats do serve as a shield from the outside world, though. Or a dead giveaway that you’re a flasher. Maybe the trench coat in this scenario was akin to masks or something? A garment that helped somewhat and probably made you feel better but couldn’t entirely protect you from the raining artillery. (Did that come off as anti-mask? I am pro-trench coat, for the record.)
Jetzt Zum Deutschen. According to some experts, dreaming in a language you don’t know is indicative of wanting to learn it. According to others, dreams are nothing more than “random memory dumps” and this entire post is futile. A bit harsh, if you ask me.
Do you want to learn German? When you referenced the Germans from the movies were you thinking of good guys or bad guys?
I wish we could Inception this shit or at least get a transcript of your dream because apparently when we dream in languages we don’t know, the sentences often still make sense. How the heck do scientists know this? What are they not telling us? Isn’t that bonkers?
Does the phrase “maniok schweinefleisch” ring a bell? Google translate says it means mu shu pork. (If you’re learning German, don’t quote me on that. I just work here.)
Despite the mu shu pork oversight (amateur move, bro), it sounds like you saved the day! Blue skies and takeout — what more could you ask for? The moral of this dream is that even if you’re wildly unprepared in a horrific situation speaking a language you don’t even sort of know, lo mein can solve it.
Everything works out in the end. And even when we try our best, we’re still going to be the asshole who forgot the mu shu pork some time or another. And that’s just fine. The world can eat another crab rangoon and admire our trench coats about it.
WHADDYA THINK?
Michael does this very smart thing in his newsletter where he prompts readers to leave comments, so I’m going to steal that tactic in honor of his dream. Let me know how you interpreted The Dream Without Subtitles in the comments! Feel free to use these q’s as inspo.
What did I get wrong about Michael’s dream?
What do you think the telephone in the trench symbolized?
What dish would you be pissed was left out of the takeout order?
What’s the weirdest thing you remember wearing in a dream?
Thanks as always for reading! I’ll be in your inbox every Friday with more funny stories, essays, satires, snarky dream analyses, and more.
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Stay trenchy,
Ariana