The Dead Brown Grass on the Lawn of Life

Thanks, shutterstock, for the perfect photo of dead grass. When I need another really sick picture, I’ll know where to look.

What do you do when you dream of dead, brown grass? Try looking it up on the dream websites.

Here are the different interpretations:

• Green grass is good (duh)
• Brown, dried up grass is bad (double duh)
• A dream of dead grass could mean you feel you’re not growing like you’re supposed to (Wow! I couldn’t have figured that one out by myself).
• It could mean you’re not making the progress in your life you want to make. (or it could mean that I’m forgetting something and I’d better remember it PDQ).
• Then again, it could mean that you don’t need to worry about the little things in life anymore. All those things that annoyed you are now gone. (That’s what happens when you lose your mind).
• Or it could mean that a very important buffer between you and the world has been taken away and now you’re going to have to worry more than ever. (That’s as comforting as being tied up in a room full of scorpions.)
• It could mean you’ll encounter stupidity and ignorance. (All I have to do to encounter that is look in the mirror–what else is new? Give me something that I can sink what’s left of my teeth into!).
• You could be facing some health problems. (All right–what health problem that I’ve never hear of before is going to hit me next–athletes foot of the fingers?)

That’s certainly a come-here-go-away runaround litany of explanations.  Whatever you want to call it, I feel like the inside of Mohammad Ali’s punching bag.

All I remember of the dream is living in a house owned by a man I had a huge crush on—when I was 11.  In real life–from a childhood perspective—he was always well dressed, his wife and daughter were beautiful.  They lived only a few houses away, but they looked like they belonged in a 5 star hotel on the Riviera compared to my one-notch-above-a-trailer-park Roach Motel existence.  Their true story? Ends up that he and his wife were in debt up to their Crown Chakras–and their lifestyle imploded shortly after their daughter graduated from high school.   Yep. Their daughter went from privileged to pauper, going from job to job and quitting each because, “They don’t fit into my lifestyle.” Did I mention she was blonde?

At the end of the dream, a young woman with dark brown hair was walking toward the house.  She saw the brown grass, saw me, and told him she was leaving him (I had no idea she was even living there). All I remember about her was the lipstick–a very shiny maroon red glistening in the sunlight.

Anyway, there I was stuck in Dream World with some lovesick depressed guy as he stood upon the dead brown grass on the lawn of life calling out to an empty-headed bimbo, “Please don’t leave me!”   Opportunistic bitch–leaving when things were getting bad and looking for a place where the grass would be greener.

I think I’m jealous.