Seven Songs and Orange Underpants

I'm processing a doozy of a dream that I've just given at dream group.  I don't want talk about the dream at the minute. It's all too raw at the minute.

There is a well-stepped path to processing dreams.

First  - eat an ice cream.That was done on the way home - a white chocolate and strawberry Magnum - emergency comfort food. That got demolished as soon as I walked in the door.

Next  - find the appropriate coloured clothing to wear for the next while. Green is the colour. There is a lot of emotion to process - green helps.

Thirdly, find those orange underpants. One of the best bits of advice I've ever received was from my friend Alice. I'd just broken up with my last boyfriend, some seven years ago. I was moping. Alice dropped a bag on my desk, in which was a pair of orange cotton underpants - new, clean and my size. Her rationale was how could you not have fun when you were wearing orange undies. I break them out when I'm processing dreams. They really help matters too. They remind me to try and enjoy the journey.

And for tonight - find the music that goes with the mood. Which isn't morose at all. Nor am I depressed nor upset - just shaken. I told you it was a doozy of a dream.

So here we go. Seven songs to pacify a raging spirit.

It's going to be an interesting week.

So what do we need to work through?

Anger? (Brought to you by the Violent Femmes)

A bit more anger (Brought to you by the White Stripes)

A tune to go completely berko to (i.e. dance naked around the lounge room and hope the neighbours don't complain)

And a bit more anger to work through again - and Nick Cave gives it even more street cred.

And something that I know that hurts a bit. Okay - it hurts a lot as it is the current Pump release's bicep track.

Better throw something a bit more reflective in for good measure:

And lastly,put me to sleep for the night while my psyche tries to reconcile itself with its demons.

It's times like this it would be nice to have a cat. Or a boyfriend. Or a cat and a boyfriend.

I think I'll just put on an episode of the West Wing and have Josh Lyman's dulcet tones lull me to sleep.

The real work starts tomorrow.