Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

In Reality, I Rarely Skipped Classes, So WTF

Like most people, I usually don't remember my dreams. The exception to this is when, over the last 20 years or so, I manage to have the same dream over and over again. Unfortunately, the recurring dream doesn't involve alcohol, a vacation, a money tree, a dust-free house, or anything else that leaves a smile on my face. It involves high school.

Thanks to the fact that I showed up at a junior high fundraiser last Friday, I have had the displeasure of having this dream three out of the last five nights. Maybe it's the fact that as we were leaving the school, a junior high dance was just beginning. Walking through a mob of teenagers induced a shocking amount of anxiety and made me remember how much I disliked junior high. The bad wardrobe choices, braces, greasy hair, inability to use obscenities in a creative way, body odor and bad posture made me grateful for adulthood, but also triggered this dream:

I'm at high school, but I've been skipping so often that I can't remember where my locker is. I wander around the locker bays, finally find my locker, but then realize that I don't remember the combination. Even if I get my locker open, it doesn't matter because I have no idea what class I'm supposed to be in, or where that class is, because I don't even remember my way around. Is the cafeteria that direction, or is that where calculus is? Somehow I end up finding an area of the school that I never even knew existed.

I figure since I'm so far behind in English, I might as well just drop the stupid class. So I head to the office, only to stop outside the door because I realize that if I drop it, I might not have enough credits to graduate. So I head back toward the class, 20 minutes late, and just keep walking right by the door. After all, the teacher probably won't even recognize me, I'm weeks behind in assignments, and there's a test today that I haven't studied one minute for.

There are usually slight variations to the dream: what I'm wearing, the color of my locker, the class I've been skipping, and the friends I see in the hallway. But no matter how hideous my outfit is or who I wave to, the end of the dream is always the same: I leave school early after deciding to skip classes again, and have a lot more fun doing something else. Unfortunately, this part of the dream I never seem to remember.

Friday, October 23, 2009

I Thought I Was Messed Up


Zoe's dream last night:

"I got out all of the broccoli from the refrigerator, and you got pretty mad because then there was broccoli all over the floor. So then I got out the potato chips instead, and took them to the store and sold them so that lots of people could have the potato chips. And then I came home and played with Tiger, who is my friend, and did you know he looks kind of like Diego from Ice Age? And I hid in the kitchen, with the potato chips, and Tiger found me."

I should probably reevaluate my organizational skills for the drugs, since clearly the Children's Motrin shouldn't be kept right next to the acid.