Archive for the ‘dreams’ Category

Dreams are funny things. Almost all my life I’ve had a rich dream life. Some are funny, some are sad, some are weird and some aren’t even worth remembering.

A couple of days ago I woke up laughing and had to tell Bruce about my silly dream. (A real treat for him first thing in the morning, I’m sure, while he was still pre-coffee . . . .) In the dream something had happened, like bad weather, which we had in the metro area several weeks ago. I was with a group of people and we were riding around together in a car surveying the damage. (In my dreams I’m usually a little younger and more agile and a lot stronger.) When we got to our house, which of course, looked different than our real house, however, we could see from the street through a picture window that some people were in the house in the kitchen messing about. In my righteous indignation — how could anyone be in my house fooling around in there? — I jumped out of the car and dashed inside to confront the intruders. Since the kitchen was the scene of the crime, spatulas and big spoons and kitchen utensils were lying on the floor. I grabbed a spatula from the floor and threatened the man and woman with it! Whoa – scary weapon there, huh? They cowered and made for the door while I headed for the broom. That was my next weapon of choice. I was really going to let them have it. Really make a clean sweep of it, I guess. Anyway, they left and I awoke feeling quite vindicated. I had protected hearth and home and all was well. Bruce and I had a good chuckle. In my real kitchen, I have two magnetic knife bars. One by the prep counter actually holds knives, but the other one, by the stove top, holds spatulas. Who would have thought that the brain would equate a mighty instrument like a knife with a equally mighty spatula? Crazy, huh?

Some of my dreams through the years have recurring themes. One of the most common started in college. I would oversleep and miss an important exam. Because I’d come in late, I flunked the test. Finally, one day when I attended Fort Hays it actually happened — kind of. Because of a very early exam time, I had stayed in a guest room at the dorm, on the other side of campus from the English building. I’d brought with me David’s digital alarm clock. However, I forgot you had to set the AM or PM for the alarm. I woke up at 7.15 for a 7.30 exam. I pulled on clothes, splashed water on my face, grabbed my purse, and started running. I was only a few minutes late, but it took me 15 minutes to catch my breath. I huffed and puffed through the first essay question. For a long time, I didn’t have that particular dream. I had lived it, so I no longer had to fear it. Eventually that wore off and the dream came back during grad school.

Another one was what I call my standard “frustration” dream. In the dream someone is about to “get me.” I need to yell but I can’t. I would wake up frustrated and mad at myself. Finally, one night, I had had enough, I actually yelled — and scared the you-know-what out of my husband. That one disappeared for awhile too.

A variation on the above involved preparing for the first day of school. In the dream I would have everything organized and something awful would happen. Once, I left my classroom and the custodians came in, removed the desks and poured wax on the floor. First day of school! I couldn’t walk on the wet floor even to retrieve my handouts. A real nightmare for a teacher!

One of my favorite dreams involved being late for work — on the first day of school — for a very strict principal, not that that would make any difference. In the dream, I was late because I was shopping at the mall. My subconscious didn’t deal with the fact that I’d had to have been shopping at 7 and 8 o’clock in the morning. ? ? Anyway, I realized I needed a good lie. What could I possibly say that Mrs. Strict Principal might actually believe? Yes — I had it. I would tell her my dog had diarrhea on the living room carpet and I had to stop and clean it before it stained. Would she come over to sniff the rug? Naah. Was there a sympathy factor at work there? Yeah. No one ever wants to deal with a mess like that! I woke up laughing. Remember that — just in case you ever need a really good lie for being very late to work. Just be sure you actually own a dog, okay?

Speaking of dogs. One summer when I was studying at Southern Miss in Hattiesburg, I really got homesick, not for my family, but for BJ, our Doberman. I could pick up the phone and talk to the humans when I missed them, but I couldn’t talk to BJ. Dale once held the phone to her ear and she proceeded to wander the house looking for me. Aaah. So I started dreaming about her. We were always out in a big field and with her long legs, she could run like the wind. That is truly doggie heaven. So now when I remember her, I think of her that way, not old and sick, blind with cataracts and diabetic, but young and well. Running like the wind, in a big field, romping and playing like happy dogs should. As Hamlet says — “To sleep — perchance to dream.”

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