All I can remember of last night's dream is an unpleasant episode at work that was disturbingly realistic. I've probably mentioned before that in real life I have a coworker who, while meaning well, comes off as pushy. In the dream I was trying to do some task that was going to require a document that was probably somewhere in one of two wire inboxes on my desk. Just as I was poised to start looking through them to find the document, this coworker (who was not specifically involved in this part of the task) came up to my desk and started flipping through the inbox contents to find the document first. With no warning (even to myself), I exploded. I picked up the tray, brandished it while yelling at her to back off and get her hands off my stuff, then flung down the tray hard on the desk. For good measure, I heaved the other tray onto the floor beside my desk (it should be noted that none of this physical outburst involved people, just the two inboxes).
She seemed taken aback (and rightly so, I'm sure), and I was immediately embarrassed at my loss of control. Although I was still annoyed with her, I realized that I had just come off looking bad, since she had been well-meaning in her interference. To make things worse, she started talking about how she was "just trying to help", and how another coworker and I were "always whispering together and gossiping". I tried to tell her that 1) I couldn't help it if this other coworker came up and started a conversation with me at my desk; and 2) we weren't "gossiping", just talking about random things of no import.
Ugh. Very unpleasant. I can't deny that I have some pent-up real-life annoyance about similar issues, but I certainly hope the outbursts stay confined to my dream life.
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stress. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
stressful heist
I had a very stressful dream last night. My husband was working for some industrial company (mining? petroleum refinery? chemicals?) in a lower/middle management and/or possibly security capacity. For some reason I was there with him at the main office. No one else was around, so it was just the two of us. I'm not sure where the office people were, but it was clear that they would be gone for a while.
In the middle of our uneventful office visit, there was a loud explosion from the direction of the factory/mine/refinery. From the sound of it, no one was going to make it out of there alive. I asked him what it was and he replied "kryptonite" (??). He then sprang into action, although I couldn't determine whether this action was premeditated or a spur-of-the-moment idea. Apparently there was a huge amount of the company's capital just stored in cash in the office (??). He filled up two or three paper Whole Foods bags (again, ??) with what supposedly amounted to 400 million (billion?) dollars.
I found this sudden turn of events disturbing in the extreme. First of all, the idea that he was going to try to make off with this enormous amount of money was alarming both on an ethical and a practical level. How did he think we would ever get away with such a thing? And then there was the disturbing question of whether he had known about or somehow been involved in the explosion, which was such a terrible idea that I didn't want to dwell on it.
I guess my hesitation and nay-saying cost us some time, and we didn't end up leaving right away (I also argued that skipping the country at the exact time of the explosion and disappearance of the cash would make us look way too suspect and that it was better to stick around for a while to lessen suspicion on us; I think I was also hoping to talk him out of his scheme). I also pointed out that any business who kept large quantities of cash would be foolish not to mark the bills somehow, and that the first bill we attempted to spend would get us caught.
I woke up around the time that the police were starting to swarm around the place (amazingly, they didn't nab us immediately; I don't know what became of the paper bags full of cash, but they were still somehow in our possession). Then I kept drifting in and out of sleep, anxiously concocting strategies to keep us from getting arrested--plant a bill or two on an unsuspecting passerby? Drop a bill in a place where it was likely to be picked up and spent by someone else (I was very preoccupied with the whole marked-bill scenario)? I was afraid we were condemned to a fugitive life and would never actually be able to spend any of the money--so it was obviously better to just abandon the whole idea while we were still somewhat uninvolved.
In the middle of our uneventful office visit, there was a loud explosion from the direction of the factory/mine/refinery. From the sound of it, no one was going to make it out of there alive. I asked him what it was and he replied "kryptonite" (??). He then sprang into action, although I couldn't determine whether this action was premeditated or a spur-of-the-moment idea. Apparently there was a huge amount of the company's capital just stored in cash in the office (??). He filled up two or three paper Whole Foods bags (again, ??) with what supposedly amounted to 400 million (billion?) dollars.
I found this sudden turn of events disturbing in the extreme. First of all, the idea that he was going to try to make off with this enormous amount of money was alarming both on an ethical and a practical level. How did he think we would ever get away with such a thing? And then there was the disturbing question of whether he had known about or somehow been involved in the explosion, which was such a terrible idea that I didn't want to dwell on it.
I guess my hesitation and nay-saying cost us some time, and we didn't end up leaving right away (I also argued that skipping the country at the exact time of the explosion and disappearance of the cash would make us look way too suspect and that it was better to stick around for a while to lessen suspicion on us; I think I was also hoping to talk him out of his scheme). I also pointed out that any business who kept large quantities of cash would be foolish not to mark the bills somehow, and that the first bill we attempted to spend would get us caught.
I woke up around the time that the police were starting to swarm around the place (amazingly, they didn't nab us immediately; I don't know what became of the paper bags full of cash, but they were still somehow in our possession). Then I kept drifting in and out of sleep, anxiously concocting strategies to keep us from getting arrested--plant a bill or two on an unsuspecting passerby? Drop a bill in a place where it was likely to be picked up and spent by someone else (I was very preoccupied with the whole marked-bill scenario)? I was afraid we were condemned to a fugitive life and would never actually be able to spend any of the money--so it was obviously better to just abandon the whole idea while we were still somewhat uninvolved.
Friday, January 21, 2011
squalid group living
I guess this dream was prompted by our recent housekeeping woes (as in, lack of) and our attempts to find a leather couch that the dogs won't dirty up so much. We (my husband and I) were sharing a house with some other people, a couple of different parties consisting of two or three people. All of them were Asian (I think one party was Indian and the other, with more members, was Korean). All were either students or had "knowledge economy" type jobs*.
Anyway, my husband and I had the living room as our area, and we had never properly moved in so everything was a huge mess (you know what happens when you've run out of steam in the end stages of a move and haven't found a proper place for everything). To make things worse, we had our two dogs with us--I think they were in an indoor-outdoor living situation, and the doberman had been inside.
[At some point in the middle of this dream, the dwelling curiously transitioned into a huge construction-parts warehouse; even while dreaming I was aware that this was my subconscious's way of voicing its displeasure/overwhelm at our real-life messy house.]
Back in the actual house (not warehouse), I was trying to tidy up while my husband, who had a cold, was lying on the couch watching TV. I wasn't really upset by his lack of help because he was sick**, but I was completely overwhelmed and questioning the utility of my endeavor. I had just discovered that the dog had thrown up in several places after chewing on a rawhide (so it was that whitish, milky post-rawhide throw-up that will be familiar to dog owners).
I was trying to find something to clean up the mess (and not finding a rag, of course). In the adjacent kitchen, a couple of the Koreans were eating their breakfast, like perfect little robots: get out the food, dish it into one dish, eat it all quickly in a focused manner, quickly rinse single dish and single glass. This only increased my feelings of inferiority, since I have never been able to eat so neatly and with such little production of dirty dishes.
Breakfast tidily put away, one of the Koreans grabbed his backpack (without fumbling, of course) and started to very quickly navigate the piles of junk on his way out the front door. I panicked and tried to warn him about the dog-vomit piles, but couldn't get it out fast enough. He landed in the biggest one with his clean be-socked foot***. He was too polite to register more than the briefest expression of surprise and discomfit before he whooshed out the door, sweeping up his shoes in one smooth motion.
I never did find a rag to clean up the vomit, I just sunk into self-recrimination and amazement that the tidy Asians hadn't already kicked us out, then woke up.
*Yeah, my subconscious hews closely to racial stereotypes.
**This does at least show a departure from the trope where I start yelling at assorted family members because I'm doing all the housework.
***Because, being clean, he didn't wear shoes in the house.
Anyway, my husband and I had the living room as our area, and we had never properly moved in so everything was a huge mess (you know what happens when you've run out of steam in the end stages of a move and haven't found a proper place for everything). To make things worse, we had our two dogs with us--I think they were in an indoor-outdoor living situation, and the doberman had been inside.
[At some point in the middle of this dream, the dwelling curiously transitioned into a huge construction-parts warehouse; even while dreaming I was aware that this was my subconscious's way of voicing its displeasure/overwhelm at our real-life messy house.]
Back in the actual house (not warehouse), I was trying to tidy up while my husband, who had a cold, was lying on the couch watching TV. I wasn't really upset by his lack of help because he was sick**, but I was completely overwhelmed and questioning the utility of my endeavor. I had just discovered that the dog had thrown up in several places after chewing on a rawhide (so it was that whitish, milky post-rawhide throw-up that will be familiar to dog owners).
I was trying to find something to clean up the mess (and not finding a rag, of course). In the adjacent kitchen, a couple of the Koreans were eating their breakfast, like perfect little robots: get out the food, dish it into one dish, eat it all quickly in a focused manner, quickly rinse single dish and single glass. This only increased my feelings of inferiority, since I have never been able to eat so neatly and with such little production of dirty dishes.
Breakfast tidily put away, one of the Koreans grabbed his backpack (without fumbling, of course) and started to very quickly navigate the piles of junk on his way out the front door. I panicked and tried to warn him about the dog-vomit piles, but couldn't get it out fast enough. He landed in the biggest one with his clean be-socked foot***. He was too polite to register more than the briefest expression of surprise and discomfit before he whooshed out the door, sweeping up his shoes in one smooth motion.
I never did find a rag to clean up the vomit, I just sunk into self-recrimination and amazement that the tidy Asians hadn't already kicked us out, then woke up.
*Yeah, my subconscious hews closely to racial stereotypes.
**This does at least show a departure from the trope where I start yelling at assorted family members because I'm doing all the housework.
***Because, being clean, he didn't wear shoes in the house.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
ugh and ugh
I've had several unpleasant dreams lately. Here are a couple (breaking them up so as not to overload the tag limit).
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I was on yet another group trip, this time to Hong Kong, with a group made up largely of young and youngish Asian women. We had just arrived, and our first stop was a large park on the top of hill so high it might better be called a mountain. There was a spectacular view, and the mountain/hill itself was covered with green vegetation. The park was very touristy, with a gigantic parking lot, a bus station (we came by bus), and lots of touristy amenities.
Instead of confining ourselves to gawking at the scenery, we were supposed to doing a craft activity. It was one of those very specific, structured projects with little room for individual variation (I think some kind of paper folding was involved). I had been vigorously reproached by the tour guide for my clumsy American lack of politesse, grace, and social nicety, and I was trying desperately to prove my worthiness by perfectly executing the craft project. This backfired on me, though, since as a result of my care I took too long and was still working on it when the rest of the group had finished. Of course the guide was unhappy about my slowness.
After the craft fiasco, we all went to a restaurant to eat lunch. Because I had been so focused on my project, I hadn't changed my money at the nearby exchange kiosk like everyone else had, so I had no Chinese money. Since the whole place was so extremely touristy, I was clinging to the hope that they might accept payment in dollars. On entering the restaurant, which was cafeteria style, I realized that wouldn't be an option, but the extremely nice girl in front of me in line offered to pay and I could pay her back later.
So all seemed to be going reasonably well, until I tripped with my plate of food and spilled it all over. I was confused at this unexpected catastrophe, and went to get a refill. I was so shaken by my showy accident (food went all over) that I didn't stop to think that they would want payment for my replacement food. I guess I consumed it, because the next thing I remember was a confrontation with a cleaver-wielding chef who demanded payment (and not in dollars). He insinuated that I would be pursued by gangsters if I didn't pay up.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
In another unpleasant dream, I was working as a secretary in a large and somewhat weird building. My boss was the woman who in real life is the boss for the business occupying the first two floors of my real-life office building. We all have the impression that she's much stricter than her predecessor, although that's not based on a lot of data.
I was working away, although my job (like my actual, real-life job) didn't require a whole lot. I wasn't actively loafing, so I had no reason to be on the lookout for a scolding of any kind, but the boss came looking for me, extremely angry. She started ranting and raving about how I couldn't "control the infrastructure". I finally realized that she was referring to some cars that were parked illegally downstairs, one in an actual space and a couple in a grassy area next to a sidewalk. None of these cars were in places where I could have seen them from any of the windows--I would have to have been outside, and thus not inside doing my job. I tried to tell her this, but there was no reasoning with her, and she insinuated that I might lose my job over not having called a tow truck*.
*In my real-life job we have limited parking space, and it falls to me to call the tow truck, which I must admit I sometimes do with relish if the car is expensive and parked directly in front of the very visible "no parking" sign. There has been some hinting on the part of a coworker that I'm mean for calling the tow truck (I actually have only called a very few times, and never for very battered, run-down cars that, to my mind, indicate someone operating on less than a full share of resources); other people are perhaps more strict than me regarding cars that don't belong there, so I feel like I'll be seen as not doing my job if I don't deal with it when a car is parked in one of our spots. Apparently this car-towing thing causes me angst than I might have thought.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I was on yet another group trip, this time to Hong Kong, with a group made up largely of young and youngish Asian women. We had just arrived, and our first stop was a large park on the top of hill so high it might better be called a mountain. There was a spectacular view, and the mountain/hill itself was covered with green vegetation. The park was very touristy, with a gigantic parking lot, a bus station (we came by bus), and lots of touristy amenities.
Instead of confining ourselves to gawking at the scenery, we were supposed to doing a craft activity. It was one of those very specific, structured projects with little room for individual variation (I think some kind of paper folding was involved). I had been vigorously reproached by the tour guide for my clumsy American lack of politesse, grace, and social nicety, and I was trying desperately to prove my worthiness by perfectly executing the craft project. This backfired on me, though, since as a result of my care I took too long and was still working on it when the rest of the group had finished. Of course the guide was unhappy about my slowness.
After the craft fiasco, we all went to a restaurant to eat lunch. Because I had been so focused on my project, I hadn't changed my money at the nearby exchange kiosk like everyone else had, so I had no Chinese money. Since the whole place was so extremely touristy, I was clinging to the hope that they might accept payment in dollars. On entering the restaurant, which was cafeteria style, I realized that wouldn't be an option, but the extremely nice girl in front of me in line offered to pay and I could pay her back later.
So all seemed to be going reasonably well, until I tripped with my plate of food and spilled it all over. I was confused at this unexpected catastrophe, and went to get a refill. I was so shaken by my showy accident (food went all over) that I didn't stop to think that they would want payment for my replacement food. I guess I consumed it, because the next thing I remember was a confrontation with a cleaver-wielding chef who demanded payment (and not in dollars). He insinuated that I would be pursued by gangsters if I didn't pay up.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
In another unpleasant dream, I was working as a secretary in a large and somewhat weird building. My boss was the woman who in real life is the boss for the business occupying the first two floors of my real-life office building. We all have the impression that she's much stricter than her predecessor, although that's not based on a lot of data.
I was working away, although my job (like my actual, real-life job) didn't require a whole lot. I wasn't actively loafing, so I had no reason to be on the lookout for a scolding of any kind, but the boss came looking for me, extremely angry. She started ranting and raving about how I couldn't "control the infrastructure". I finally realized that she was referring to some cars that were parked illegally downstairs, one in an actual space and a couple in a grassy area next to a sidewalk. None of these cars were in places where I could have seen them from any of the windows--I would have to have been outside, and thus not inside doing my job. I tried to tell her this, but there was no reasoning with her, and she insinuated that I might lose my job over not having called a tow truck*.
*In my real-life job we have limited parking space, and it falls to me to call the tow truck, which I must admit I sometimes do with relish if the car is expensive and parked directly in front of the very visible "no parking" sign. There has been some hinting on the part of a coworker that I'm mean for calling the tow truck (I actually have only called a very few times, and never for very battered, run-down cars that, to my mind, indicate someone operating on less than a full share of resources); other people are perhaps more strict than me regarding cars that don't belong there, so I feel like I'll be seen as not doing my job if I don't deal with it when a car is parked in one of our spots. Apparently this car-towing thing causes me angst than I might have thought.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Brits in drag
I don't have time right now to describe the other night's extremely trippy dream featuring a gigantic moth man (yes!), or the movie/crime mystery dream loosely inspired by The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. In the interest of not falling behind again, though, here is last night's dream.
I was in school, although "school" was vaguely defined and included some of my coworkers* in vague capacities as fellow students and/or instructors. We were supposed to be putting together a paper/presentation, and the first group was going to start presenting later that day. Of course I still hadn't even settled on a topic. I had been fairly sure of a topic I can't remember now, involving serving food as part of the presentation. Then I decided that a topic involving Japan and serving sushi (which I'm not an expert on) would be better.
I was feeling okay about my presentation (although I didn't have any material), until I started to deal with the sushi-making. I looked at my raw materials (leftover long-grain rice with bits of carrot), and realized that it was all wrong and I would never be able to pull things together. After some desperate thinking [during which there was a mini subplot in which a boy I had a crush on in elementary school was now divorced with a kid or two and expressing interest, which was kind of flattering even though I thought he might just be looking for childcare], I came up with an idea. My topic would be "why do men in drag feature so prominently in British sketch-type comedies?"**
I thought this was a great topic because it was something I was personally curious about, but I had the wind taken out of my sails when I asked around and none of my fellow students had even seen Monty Python (not that I'm a huge Monty Python fan, but I figured everyone would at least know that reference). I then started doubting once again my choice of subjects, which brought on a full-blown crisis regarding inability to focus and commit to a decision. I hate it when my subconscious has to bring up and rub in these real-life character flaws.
*I've been having an inordinate, and annoying, number of coworker dream sightings.
**Prompted, no doubt, by my recent viewing of said British sketch-type comedy.
I was in school, although "school" was vaguely defined and included some of my coworkers* in vague capacities as fellow students and/or instructors. We were supposed to be putting together a paper/presentation, and the first group was going to start presenting later that day. Of course I still hadn't even settled on a topic. I had been fairly sure of a topic I can't remember now, involving serving food as part of the presentation. Then I decided that a topic involving Japan and serving sushi (which I'm not an expert on) would be better.
I was feeling okay about my presentation (although I didn't have any material), until I started to deal with the sushi-making. I looked at my raw materials (leftover long-grain rice with bits of carrot), and realized that it was all wrong and I would never be able to pull things together. After some desperate thinking [during which there was a mini subplot in which a boy I had a crush on in elementary school was now divorced with a kid or two and expressing interest, which was kind of flattering even though I thought he might just be looking for childcare], I came up with an idea. My topic would be "why do men in drag feature so prominently in British sketch-type comedies?"**
I thought this was a great topic because it was something I was personally curious about, but I had the wind taken out of my sails when I asked around and none of my fellow students had even seen Monty Python (not that I'm a huge Monty Python fan, but I figured everyone would at least know that reference). I then started doubting once again my choice of subjects, which brought on a full-blown crisis regarding inability to focus and commit to a decision. I hate it when my subconscious has to bring up and rub in these real-life character flaws.
*I've been having an inordinate, and annoying, number of coworker dream sightings.
**Prompted, no doubt, by my recent viewing of said British sketch-type comedy.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
group trips, and my subconscious attempts to hammer some sense into me
First of all, I had a very stereotypical group-trip dream last night. It was actually a bus tour (of where, I don't know). About 20% of the group were Chinese, and my seatmate was a Chinese girl. It was a pretty structured thing, with the tour guide telling us when to get off the bus, how much time we'd have, when to take pictures, etc. I really have no idea why I keep having these dreams--I haven't been on a group trip in years.
The other dream requires a little real-life background. I have a co-worker that I have a little bit of a personality conflict with. The only really objective problem I have with her is that she's kind of pushy/very sure of her opinions, and very quick to jump in and do things that are other people's jobs (for example, my job involves answering the phone, but she has a habit of picking it up micro-seconds after it's rung if she has the impression that I'm not at my desk [her impression is often wrong, and I'm actually at my desk, or close enough]--this is something that's persisted despite my politely requesting her not to do this). Anyway, thanks to the big difference between her personality and mine, and thanks to a tendency to paranoia and neurosis on my part, I've developed the idea that she disapproves of me and would like to be able to complain about me but feels she can't for one reason or another (certain things she does or says come across to me as veiled criticisms, even if they're not intended that way).
So that's the real-life background. In the dream, which was very realistic, I was at work. I was up doing something, and came back to find a sheet of paper on my desk. The paper had several receipts copied on it, with some specifications and instructions written on afterward by her. On looking at it briefly, I thought it was dealing with something that she wouldn't ordinarily have needed to be involved in; it looked to me like she was jumping in and assembling things because she felt like I hadn't taken care of it fast enough, and this was her way of shaming me for not being quick-quick-quick.
I was pretty angry, thanks to all that bottled-up resentment. I took it to a couple of other coworkers and waved it around, ranting about how passive-aggressive this was on her part (she wasn't around at this point). One of the other coworkers looked at it closer and pointed out that it was just some receipts she was submitting for reimbursement--so it wasn't something I had known about, or something that anyone could have possibly expected me to deal with yet. I was a bit deflated, but relieved that it wasn't actually a case of passive-aggressive criticism. Of course it was a little embarrassing to have ranted about it, but there was some solace in realizing that maybe I'd been too paranoid all along, and that it was possible that she wasn't constantly wishing for an opportunity to express just how awful (lazy, incompetent, backward) she thought I was.
I don't really know whether to be happy at this evidence that my subconscious is more sensible than my conscious, waking self, or to be annoyed at it for having this "I told you so" dream.
The other dream requires a little real-life background. I have a co-worker that I have a little bit of a personality conflict with. The only really objective problem I have with her is that she's kind of pushy/very sure of her opinions, and very quick to jump in and do things that are other people's jobs (for example, my job involves answering the phone, but she has a habit of picking it up micro-seconds after it's rung if she has the impression that I'm not at my desk [her impression is often wrong, and I'm actually at my desk, or close enough]--this is something that's persisted despite my politely requesting her not to do this). Anyway, thanks to the big difference between her personality and mine, and thanks to a tendency to paranoia and neurosis on my part, I've developed the idea that she disapproves of me and would like to be able to complain about me but feels she can't for one reason or another (certain things she does or says come across to me as veiled criticisms, even if they're not intended that way).
So that's the real-life background. In the dream, which was very realistic, I was at work. I was up doing something, and came back to find a sheet of paper on my desk. The paper had several receipts copied on it, with some specifications and instructions written on afterward by her. On looking at it briefly, I thought it was dealing with something that she wouldn't ordinarily have needed to be involved in; it looked to me like she was jumping in and assembling things because she felt like I hadn't taken care of it fast enough, and this was her way of shaming me for not being quick-quick-quick.
I was pretty angry, thanks to all that bottled-up resentment. I took it to a couple of other coworkers and waved it around, ranting about how passive-aggressive this was on her part (she wasn't around at this point). One of the other coworkers looked at it closer and pointed out that it was just some receipts she was submitting for reimbursement--so it wasn't something I had known about, or something that anyone could have possibly expected me to deal with yet. I was a bit deflated, but relieved that it wasn't actually a case of passive-aggressive criticism. Of course it was a little embarrassing to have ranted about it, but there was some solace in realizing that maybe I'd been too paranoid all along, and that it was possible that she wasn't constantly wishing for an opportunity to express just how awful (lazy, incompetent, backward) she thought I was.
I don't really know whether to be happy at this evidence that my subconscious is more sensible than my conscious, waking self, or to be annoyed at it for having this "I told you so" dream.
Monday, August 9, 2010
a dream about a dream about a dream
I've been having a terrible time remembering my dreams lately. I keep waking up, noting something, thinking "there's no way I'll forget this", and then forgetting it. Last night's dream, though, I could have done with forgetting.
To start with, I had a terrible time going to sleep, which is unusual for me. My fingers kept falling asleep while I was still awake, which prompted me to fidget, which woke up my grumpy sleep companion, who was also apparently not sleeping as deeply as usual.
That was the real-life part. I realized that I was fidgeting a lot and disturbing the sleep of the bed's other occupant, and this started blending into my dream: I started to dream that we were sleeping, in our usual bed, and that I was moving around a lot. He (in the dream, and possibly also in real life) kept waking up and making progressively more irritated growling noises. Of course the more I tried to stay still, the harder I found it. This dream went on and on, punctuated by short periods of waking that mirrored what was going on in the dream. At one point, I woke up and realized that I had been dreaming that I was dreaming about a bad night's sleep. To add insult to injury, our dogs kept barking (in real life), which is something they don't normally do at night.
I finally woke up not long before it was time to get up, realized I was cold, and added some covers to my side of the bed. After that I must have slept better, because I then dreamed that, twenty minutes before we were due to get up, my husband woke up, looked at me, and said, "well, then, let's just order some breakfast from IHOP" (which is an odd choice, because neither of us likes IHOP). We started discussing menu options, and I was relieved that he had decided not to blame his sleepless night on me.
The real-life post-script is that, on actually getting up, I realized that the whole horrible night of sleeplessness wasn't really my fault. For the next hour, both dogs continued to have barking fits indicating that there was some kind of animal nearby (the neighbor dogs were doing it when ours weren't), and I realized that they had been doing it for most of the night. Of course that didn't give me back my lost sleep.
To start with, I had a terrible time going to sleep, which is unusual for me. My fingers kept falling asleep while I was still awake, which prompted me to fidget, which woke up my grumpy sleep companion, who was also apparently not sleeping as deeply as usual.
That was the real-life part. I realized that I was fidgeting a lot and disturbing the sleep of the bed's other occupant, and this started blending into my dream: I started to dream that we were sleeping, in our usual bed, and that I was moving around a lot. He (in the dream, and possibly also in real life) kept waking up and making progressively more irritated growling noises. Of course the more I tried to stay still, the harder I found it. This dream went on and on, punctuated by short periods of waking that mirrored what was going on in the dream. At one point, I woke up and realized that I had been dreaming that I was dreaming about a bad night's sleep. To add insult to injury, our dogs kept barking (in real life), which is something they don't normally do at night.
I finally woke up not long before it was time to get up, realized I was cold, and added some covers to my side of the bed. After that I must have slept better, because I then dreamed that, twenty minutes before we were due to get up, my husband woke up, looked at me, and said, "well, then, let's just order some breakfast from IHOP" (which is an odd choice, because neither of us likes IHOP). We started discussing menu options, and I was relieved that he had decided not to blame his sleepless night on me.
The real-life post-script is that, on actually getting up, I realized that the whole horrible night of sleeplessness wasn't really my fault. For the next hour, both dogs continued to have barking fits indicating that there was some kind of animal nearby (the neighbor dogs were doing it when ours weren't), and I realized that they had been doing it for most of the night. Of course that didn't give me back my lost sleep.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
the zombie horde
I had a series of weird dreams this morning in between repeated snooze-button punchings. In the first, I had been obliged to attend a high school reunion and was not happy about being there. In hopes of avoiding being seen and having to fill people in on my current news, I escaped to the library (not my actual high-school library but a dream library). The rows of shelves were very low, about shoulder height, which dismayed me since I couldn't conceal myself without hunching over.
I was still vainly hoping that I was somewhat hidden when I noticed that a group of older people had come in. I'm not sure what they were doing there, but they had some connection with the reunion or with some other event that was going on. I sensed that they were trying to get away from the action and into a quiet spot. However, lined up evenly spaced between the rows of shelves, they just looked alarming. They all had salt-and-pepper hair in exactly the same shade, were all about the same height and weight (short-to-medium height and skinny), and they all moved very slowly and had vacant looks.
I shouted, to no one in particular, "look, it's the zombie horde!" In real life, of course, this would be extremely rude and not funny at all, but in the dream it was absolutely hilarious and I couldn't stop laughing and congratulating myself on my wit. I was also relieved to have had a bit of comedy to take my mind off my undesirable situation.
I don't remember much of the other dream, except that the protagonist was a rather nondescript man in his mid to late 30s. He had somehow gotten himself employed as a telemarketer, calling up a narrowly defined target demographic (doctors or engineers, something like that) to try to interest them in some very specialized consulting service. Of course none of them were interested, which made him hate the job even more. He was sitting at his desk trying to assemble his lunch, which consisted of sliced turkey lunch meat, sliced cheese, and some kind of flat bread*, and having a meltdown. He was yelling at his boss about having to call these people who weren't interested, how that wasn't what he wanted to do, etc. etc. I really felt sorry for him, because I knew that he was highly educated and had gotten himself into this job by mistake and necessity.
*This was undoubtedly thanks to a recent viewing of the remake of The Prisoner, wherein the only food available was "wraps" (I recommend it, by the way--the program, not necessarily the wraps).
I was still vainly hoping that I was somewhat hidden when I noticed that a group of older people had come in. I'm not sure what they were doing there, but they had some connection with the reunion or with some other event that was going on. I sensed that they were trying to get away from the action and into a quiet spot. However, lined up evenly spaced between the rows of shelves, they just looked alarming. They all had salt-and-pepper hair in exactly the same shade, were all about the same height and weight (short-to-medium height and skinny), and they all moved very slowly and had vacant looks.
I shouted, to no one in particular, "look, it's the zombie horde!" In real life, of course, this would be extremely rude and not funny at all, but in the dream it was absolutely hilarious and I couldn't stop laughing and congratulating myself on my wit. I was also relieved to have had a bit of comedy to take my mind off my undesirable situation.
I don't remember much of the other dream, except that the protagonist was a rather nondescript man in his mid to late 30s. He had somehow gotten himself employed as a telemarketer, calling up a narrowly defined target demographic (doctors or engineers, something like that) to try to interest them in some very specialized consulting service. Of course none of them were interested, which made him hate the job even more. He was sitting at his desk trying to assemble his lunch, which consisted of sliced turkey lunch meat, sliced cheese, and some kind of flat bread*, and having a meltdown. He was yelling at his boss about having to call these people who weren't interested, how that wasn't what he wanted to do, etc. etc. I really felt sorry for him, because I knew that he was highly educated and had gotten himself into this job by mistake and necessity.
*This was undoubtedly thanks to a recent viewing of the remake of The Prisoner, wherein the only food available was "wraps" (I recommend it, by the way--the program, not necessarily the wraps).
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
snippets
I had a weird assortment of dreams last night, but I only remember a few bits. I was crawling on my stomach with a few other people into a cave-like space under a concrete traffic underpass construction. I wasn't too excited about it and was starting to feel pretty claustrophobic, which led to a realization that I had never really liked caving. I announced that to my companions with a feeling of relief, as if I had been obliged to do a lot of caving (??) and this was finally going to free me of having to do an activity I didn't enjoy.
While we were crawling around, I was gathering dirt in addition to some other unclear objective (there was a reason we were under there). The next snippet I remember was a contest involving making a concoction with an inedible substance that would resemble as closely as possible a food or personal care product (??). My item was a skin cream simulacrum, made by whipping up the collected dirt with some store-bought lotion (apparently we could use a certain amount of ready-made product). I whipped it up until it looked like light-colored chocolate mousse (which begs the question of why I didn't call it chocolate mousse) and labeled it as a beauty product.
The judging involved normal consumers looking at the products (not knowing about the inedible ingredients) and choosing which they were most interested in buying. There was a lady who was very excited about my skin cream and wanted to buy some and use it immediately. I wasn't sure what the procedures were going to be for the rest of the contest, but I was very concerned that she was actually going to try to use some--I kept picturing her applying what was basically mud to her arms. I dropped several broad hints, but she wasn't taking them and I got more and more panicked about how to stop her from trying the cream.
After that I was stuck in traffic, which is a frustrating thing to dream about, since I spent about an hour stuck in terrible traffic on my way home yesterday. I was able to drive at almost full speed for a while in the dream, although traffic ahead was slowing drastically. Suddenly one of the tires on my car blew out, but I managed to calmly brake and pull over without rear-ending the car in front of me. When the insurance people showed up (insurance people show up to accidents?), they knew me already because apparently we had been ordering a lot of miscellaneous car parts and they had a lot of dealings with the parts people. What a boring snippet....
While we were crawling around, I was gathering dirt in addition to some other unclear objective (there was a reason we were under there). The next snippet I remember was a contest involving making a concoction with an inedible substance that would resemble as closely as possible a food or personal care product (??). My item was a skin cream simulacrum, made by whipping up the collected dirt with some store-bought lotion (apparently we could use a certain amount of ready-made product). I whipped it up until it looked like light-colored chocolate mousse (which begs the question of why I didn't call it chocolate mousse) and labeled it as a beauty product.
The judging involved normal consumers looking at the products (not knowing about the inedible ingredients) and choosing which they were most interested in buying. There was a lady who was very excited about my skin cream and wanted to buy some and use it immediately. I wasn't sure what the procedures were going to be for the rest of the contest, but I was very concerned that she was actually going to try to use some--I kept picturing her applying what was basically mud to her arms. I dropped several broad hints, but she wasn't taking them and I got more and more panicked about how to stop her from trying the cream.
After that I was stuck in traffic, which is a frustrating thing to dream about, since I spent about an hour stuck in terrible traffic on my way home yesterday. I was able to drive at almost full speed for a while in the dream, although traffic ahead was slowing drastically. Suddenly one of the tires on my car blew out, but I managed to calmly brake and pull over without rear-ending the car in front of me. When the insurance people showed up (insurance people show up to accidents?), they knew me already because apparently we had been ordering a lot of miscellaneous car parts and they had a lot of dealings with the parts people. What a boring snippet....
Friday, June 18, 2010
crocodiles and mobsters
I know I say this fairly often, but I really had the most exhausting dream just before waking up this morning. [This is Part 1 and Part 2, since blogger won't let me put in all the necessary labels. Part 3 is below.]
Part 1:
I had a plane ticket to go and visit a friend of mine. There was one connection, and for some reason I thought the hour or so was a huge amount of time. I left the airport and ended up in a national park near Houston (apocryphal as far as I know) known for its crocodiles. I had no car and no camping gear, but I had completely forgotten about my flight and was walking around the campground choosing a site. I felt slightly liberated by the idea of camping all alone, like I was doing something very brave and adult. I guess it was rather brave, since the campground was surrounded by a bayou (of very clear water, weirdly). The water came right up to the campsites, and the bottom sloped down very slowly, giving the impression that you were actually in the water while you were still on land. I didn't see any crocodiles, somewhat disappointingly.
Part 2:
Before I could settle on a campsite, I remembered that I was supposed to be making my connection flight and was now about three hours late for it. I was extremely unhappy with myself, and stressed out about what to do. I hemmed and hawed for a while, and then finally realized that I was actually at my friend's house, having somehow magically arrived there. For a while I was very confused and kept thinking that I still needed to arrange transportation to get there.
She lived in a weird building with a labyrinth of rooms and an assortment of people. At one point I found myself squeezed onto a couch with her (somewhat portly) father and some random young bearded and hatted musicians, all singing and boisterously celebrating their newly-released cd, the product of a collaboration with a lot of high-profile people (including Charlotte Gainsbourg). Her father was getting very excited about the music and the cd, and kept encroaching further into my personal space. It was all completely innocent, but I was getting very physically uncomfortable being squashed, and couldn't think of a way to extricate myself without making a scene. I think he was also shirtless, which added to the discomfort.
[continued below]
Part 1:
I had a plane ticket to go and visit a friend of mine. There was one connection, and for some reason I thought the hour or so was a huge amount of time. I left the airport and ended up in a national park near Houston (apocryphal as far as I know) known for its crocodiles. I had no car and no camping gear, but I had completely forgotten about my flight and was walking around the campground choosing a site. I felt slightly liberated by the idea of camping all alone, like I was doing something very brave and adult. I guess it was rather brave, since the campground was surrounded by a bayou (of very clear water, weirdly). The water came right up to the campsites, and the bottom sloped down very slowly, giving the impression that you were actually in the water while you were still on land. I didn't see any crocodiles, somewhat disappointingly.
Part 2:
Before I could settle on a campsite, I remembered that I was supposed to be making my connection flight and was now about three hours late for it. I was extremely unhappy with myself, and stressed out about what to do. I hemmed and hawed for a while, and then finally realized that I was actually at my friend's house, having somehow magically arrived there. For a while I was very confused and kept thinking that I still needed to arrange transportation to get there.
She lived in a weird building with a labyrinth of rooms and an assortment of people. At one point I found myself squeezed onto a couch with her (somewhat portly) father and some random young bearded and hatted musicians, all singing and boisterously celebrating their newly-released cd, the product of a collaboration with a lot of high-profile people (including Charlotte Gainsbourg). Her father was getting very excited about the music and the cd, and kept encroaching further into my personal space. It was all completely innocent, but I was getting very physically uncomfortable being squashed, and couldn't think of a way to extricate myself without making a scene. I think he was also shirtless, which added to the discomfort.
[continued below]
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
harrowing pet and school dreams
I haven't had one of these dreams in a while (I used to have them fairly often), but last night I dreamed that I had some pet birds. The dream followed the usual scenario: I had gotten them and then sort of forgotten I had them*; of course that meant I had forgotten to check their food and water; out of an original number of 5-6, a couple were dead in the bottom of the cage. Another variation I've had on this dream is that the birds are not dying, but escaping from cages with too much space between the bars. I've also had rather harrowing dreams featuring other pets that I've forgotten to feed/water, usually dogs (I don't recall one where the dog actually died, but there have been some close calls).
*Interestingly, I have a vague memory of also recently having a dream in which I had forgotten about being enrolled in a math class for an entire semester. Except at the end of the dream I realized that I had actually dropped the class and there was no reason to be so frantic.
*Interestingly, I have a vague memory of also recently having a dream in which I had forgotten about being enrolled in a math class for an entire semester. Except at the end of the dream I realized that I had actually dropped the class and there was no reason to be so frantic.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
High School Reunion
I had yet another high school reunion dream (perhaps I'm developing a theme as strong as Strovska's group trip theme), this one ridiculously detailed. Note that this may have some basis in reality, since next month is my 15th high school reunion, although I have no plans to attend, and have never planned to attend any reunion. This resolve began the day after I graduated.
Anyway, my dream self seems to be highly entertained by the concept of attending reunions and last night was no exception.
I dreamed that I was arriving at my old school carrying my backpack. I was somewhat proud of myself for limiting my packing to just a backpack. I knew that the girl's dorm had been renovated, so I was expecting some changes. The exterior of the building was expansive and looked very nice, though I did notice that they'd chosen to retain the beige-y, buff-colored exterior, which I thought made it look like a motel.
Inside the lobby, the dorm had retained several architectural features of its former "glory," but with the additions of lots of glass walls with shiny metal accents, a la the CSI labs. I made my way inside and avoided the welcoming smiles of the girls' dean, who was standing at the front desk. She was the one I remember from my years there, and I just wanted to skitter past her with a minimum of "catching-up" chitchat.
I toured the chapel area, and thought it was a shame that they'd completely demolished the yellow stained glass windows in favor of a windowless, and beige-colored, set of blank walls, although I did appreciate the replacement of the seats, which had been horrible when I was there.
I went upstairs to find my room for the reunion weekend. Somehow I knew that I'd be staying in my old room, and that I'd have roommates AND suitemates for the duration. They were all already settled in, and the door was open a crack as I pushed it open and called out, "Hello J.B.!!" (J.B. being the initials of a girl who was my suitemate for two years in real life.) She was standing behind the door, hanging up her clothes in the closet. She gave me one of those friendly-stranger hugs.
I started working to unpack my stuff and get myself ready for something (dinner? church? assembly?). As I investigated the bathroom, I met my suitemates, my cousin A. and another former classmate, S. They had pretty much taken over the bathroom with mountains of bottles, towels, cases of makeup, and various toiletries. Still proud of my light packing job (presumably I was clutching at straws, trying to make myself "cooler" and different from my former classmates), I was trying to wash my face at the sink, which kept filling up with tiny bottles of lotions while I was washing.
There was a lot of activity swirling around me and I'm hazy on the details, but my overall impression was that I was trying really hard to be chipper and chatty, catching up on Life. Our suitemates kept popping in and out of the room, and I noticed that my cousin A., in particular, was wearing a TON of makeup. Verging on orange.
It seemed like we were all trying to get out the door at once, but with very little success, as everyone kept trying to use the sinks/counters in the bathroom, but being thwarted each time by the massive amount of potions. Everyone was trying to iron dresses and skirts, and while I'd been so happy with my limited packing job, I worried that my selections wouldn't be dressy enough, considering all the ironing, fluffing, make up, hair styling, and stocking applications that were going on around me.
In short, it was exactly like high school, and by the time I woke to NPR, I was pretty relieved that I don't have to attend any reunions if I don't want to.
Anyway, my dream self seems to be highly entertained by the concept of attending reunions and last night was no exception.
I dreamed that I was arriving at my old school carrying my backpack. I was somewhat proud of myself for limiting my packing to just a backpack. I knew that the girl's dorm had been renovated, so I was expecting some changes. The exterior of the building was expansive and looked very nice, though I did notice that they'd chosen to retain the beige-y, buff-colored exterior, which I thought made it look like a motel.
Inside the lobby, the dorm had retained several architectural features of its former "glory," but with the additions of lots of glass walls with shiny metal accents, a la the CSI labs. I made my way inside and avoided the welcoming smiles of the girls' dean, who was standing at the front desk. She was the one I remember from my years there, and I just wanted to skitter past her with a minimum of "catching-up" chitchat.
I toured the chapel area, and thought it was a shame that they'd completely demolished the yellow stained glass windows in favor of a windowless, and beige-colored, set of blank walls, although I did appreciate the replacement of the seats, which had been horrible when I was there.
I went upstairs to find my room for the reunion weekend. Somehow I knew that I'd be staying in my old room, and that I'd have roommates AND suitemates for the duration. They were all already settled in, and the door was open a crack as I pushed it open and called out, "Hello J.B.!!" (J.B. being the initials of a girl who was my suitemate for two years in real life.) She was standing behind the door, hanging up her clothes in the closet. She gave me one of those friendly-stranger hugs.
I started working to unpack my stuff and get myself ready for something (dinner? church? assembly?). As I investigated the bathroom, I met my suitemates, my cousin A. and another former classmate, S. They had pretty much taken over the bathroom with mountains of bottles, towels, cases of makeup, and various toiletries. Still proud of my light packing job (presumably I was clutching at straws, trying to make myself "cooler" and different from my former classmates), I was trying to wash my face at the sink, which kept filling up with tiny bottles of lotions while I was washing.
There was a lot of activity swirling around me and I'm hazy on the details, but my overall impression was that I was trying really hard to be chipper and chatty, catching up on Life. Our suitemates kept popping in and out of the room, and I noticed that my cousin A., in particular, was wearing a TON of makeup. Verging on orange.
It seemed like we were all trying to get out the door at once, but with very little success, as everyone kept trying to use the sinks/counters in the bathroom, but being thwarted each time by the massive amount of potions. Everyone was trying to iron dresses and skirts, and while I'd been so happy with my limited packing job, I worried that my selections wouldn't be dressy enough, considering all the ironing, fluffing, make up, hair styling, and stocking applications that were going on around me.
In short, it was exactly like high school, and by the time I woke to NPR, I was pretty relieved that I don't have to attend any reunions if I don't want to.
Monday, April 26, 2010
george clooney
I had one of those annoying late-for-work dreams last night. I had run a bunch of errands and badly miscalculated the time that would take (as usual in real and dream life). I was supposed to be going to work at 10 or 11 a.m., but still needed to take a shower. In the dream, I was living (temporarily?) in some group setting* with common bathrooms. There were about 4 shower stalls in the bathroom, and I had just peeked in and seen that they were all empty with no one in line for them. By the time I gathered up my stuff and got there to shower, though, they were all occupied and there was a line of about 6 people waiting, including a girl I had found annoying in high school.
That was the boring, unpleasant part of the dream. After that, I was at an airport with both indoor and outdoor waiting areas, and I was supposed to get on a flight to somewhere for some kind of work-related trip. There was a giant snowstorm/cold front over pretty much the whole northern hemisphere, and all flights were canceled until further notice**. I was waiting outside on a high concrete balcony with an assortment of past real-life acquaintances, random dream people, a Norwegian girl whose design blog I sometimes read, and George Clooney (?). We were all leaning against or sitting on the balcony railing, and talking about random things. Incidentally, I was dressed in a very ratty pajama ensemble, possibly having given up earlier on getting a shower.
It turned out that George Clooney was extremely personable and funny, capable of a wide-ranging conversation. He had the sort of dry, punny, double-meaning humor that I particularly enjoy, but at one point he got serious and launched into a rather long, Steinbeckian soliloquy on the salt-of-the-earth working man and the dangers and hardships he faced (I think he was referring specifically to truck drivers, in the context of the big winter storm).
George stayed there for quite a while just chewing the fat with us, and I kept thinking, "he's a great waiting companion, but doesn't he have bigger fish to fry?" At one point he abruptly buried his face in my stomach to warm up his nose, which I thought a bit odd (although I realized that it must be an effective strategy, and that he probably found lots of willing stomachs to warm his cold nose, being who he was).
At one point in the dream, toward the beginning of the George Clooney episode, I was very concerned because I had noticed that several of my teeth seemed loose***. I was very worried, and asking everyone if they knew anything about it and if I should be worried or if it was normal****. No one had anything too reassuring or useful to say about my problem (I think the girls were all too focused on our distinguished companion). Only George had something somewhat helpful to say, and he also reminded me that [in this alternate dream universe] people's teeth were generally spaced far apart (??).
Anyway, if you're ever stranded at an airport in an open-ended, weather-related travel complication, look for George Clooney. I highly recommend him as a temporary waiting companion.
*I'd really like to someday get to the bottom of this group trip/group living thing.
**A relatively rare intrusion of current events into my dream life.
***I've experienced this loose-teeth thing a lot in dreams before, although not for a while.
****What a charming thing to bring up with a very attractive celebrity: "Nice to meet you. I think my teeth are getting ready to fall out."
That was the boring, unpleasant part of the dream. After that, I was at an airport with both indoor and outdoor waiting areas, and I was supposed to get on a flight to somewhere for some kind of work-related trip. There was a giant snowstorm/cold front over pretty much the whole northern hemisphere, and all flights were canceled until further notice**. I was waiting outside on a high concrete balcony with an assortment of past real-life acquaintances, random dream people, a Norwegian girl whose design blog I sometimes read, and George Clooney (?). We were all leaning against or sitting on the balcony railing, and talking about random things. Incidentally, I was dressed in a very ratty pajama ensemble, possibly having given up earlier on getting a shower.
It turned out that George Clooney was extremely personable and funny, capable of a wide-ranging conversation. He had the sort of dry, punny, double-meaning humor that I particularly enjoy, but at one point he got serious and launched into a rather long, Steinbeckian soliloquy on the salt-of-the-earth working man and the dangers and hardships he faced (I think he was referring specifically to truck drivers, in the context of the big winter storm).
George stayed there for quite a while just chewing the fat with us, and I kept thinking, "he's a great waiting companion, but doesn't he have bigger fish to fry?" At one point he abruptly buried his face in my stomach to warm up his nose, which I thought a bit odd (although I realized that it must be an effective strategy, and that he probably found lots of willing stomachs to warm his cold nose, being who he was).
At one point in the dream, toward the beginning of the George Clooney episode, I was very concerned because I had noticed that several of my teeth seemed loose***. I was very worried, and asking everyone if they knew anything about it and if I should be worried or if it was normal****. No one had anything too reassuring or useful to say about my problem (I think the girls were all too focused on our distinguished companion). Only George had something somewhat helpful to say, and he also reminded me that [in this alternate dream universe] people's teeth were generally spaced far apart (??).
Anyway, if you're ever stranded at an airport in an open-ended, weather-related travel complication, look for George Clooney. I highly recommend him as a temporary waiting companion.
*I'd really like to someday get to the bottom of this group trip/group living thing.
**A relatively rare intrusion of current events into my dream life.
***I've experienced this loose-teeth thing a lot in dreams before, although not for a while.
****What a charming thing to bring up with a very attractive celebrity: "Nice to meet you. I think my teeth are getting ready to fall out."
Monday, March 29, 2010
more and more ugh
The string of unpleasant dreams is continuing unbroken. The other night I dreamed that my husband and I were both undergoing some sort of hazing/trial period for a fraternity and sorority, respectively. And just before I woke up this morning, I was dreaming that a pleasant neighbor we had recently met (in the dream, not in real life) had abruptly committed suicide. In fact, I think it was the horror of that that jolted me awake.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
ugh
I seem to either be only having unpleasant dreams lately or only remembering the unpleasant parts. Last night I dreamed that I was driving somewhere on an important work-related errand. I was coming up to a place where the two lanes merged, with concrete barriers on each side, and I was behind one of those large Old People cars, driven by a man in his late 60s or early 70s, accompanied by his wife and a somewhat younger woman. I was in a hurry and supposing that they were driving at around the speed limit, but it turned out that they were going about 10 mph. As I approached the spot where the lane ended, I realized that my speed/distance calculations had been way off. They were going so slow that I slid into both their car (on the left) and the concrete wall (on the right). It was a terrible, slow-motion, sinking feeling.
Of course we all got out of the cars, and the guy was furious. He was yelling and going on and on about what an awful person I was, what a reckless, selfish driver, etc., and he of course went on to some blanket indictments of almost all drivers (apparently everyone who dared hope to drive over 10 mph). Of course I felt both terrible and stupid about the accident, but got more irritated as he kept on railing. His wife seemed to share his opinion, although she didn't really vocalize, but the younger woman (sister-in-law was my impression) was more sympathetic.
I don't know how the whole thing played out, but somehow the whole driver's side door had come off of my car. I was also stressed about not getting whatever the work-related task was done, stressed about some wardrobe-related issue (I think I had been intending to make a critical outfit change while running the errand). To top things off, as the guy was yelling and waving his arms I realized that I had recently [in the dream] rear-ended someone. The whole thing was extremely unpleasant and insecurity-inducing.
Then, while mulling that over this morning, I remembered an unpleasant dream from last week. I don't remember what was going on, but I was in some social setting when I suddenly realized that my neck was covered with 1/2-inch to 1-inch hair! It was light blond, but that didn't help much. I was mortified, wondering how long I had been hairy-necked without noticing, and mortified when I realized that I was out in public with no good way of getting rid of the hair.
Of course we all got out of the cars, and the guy was furious. He was yelling and going on and on about what an awful person I was, what a reckless, selfish driver, etc., and he of course went on to some blanket indictments of almost all drivers (apparently everyone who dared hope to drive over 10 mph). Of course I felt both terrible and stupid about the accident, but got more irritated as he kept on railing. His wife seemed to share his opinion, although she didn't really vocalize, but the younger woman (sister-in-law was my impression) was more sympathetic.
I don't know how the whole thing played out, but somehow the whole driver's side door had come off of my car. I was also stressed about not getting whatever the work-related task was done, stressed about some wardrobe-related issue (I think I had been intending to make a critical outfit change while running the errand). To top things off, as the guy was yelling and waving his arms I realized that I had recently [in the dream] rear-ended someone. The whole thing was extremely unpleasant and insecurity-inducing.
Then, while mulling that over this morning, I remembered an unpleasant dream from last week. I don't remember what was going on, but I was in some social setting when I suddenly realized that my neck was covered with 1/2-inch to 1-inch hair! It was light blond, but that didn't help much. I was mortified, wondering how long I had been hairy-necked without noticing, and mortified when I realized that I was out in public with no good way of getting rid of the hair.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
border adventure!
I had the most exhausting and ridiculous dream last night. I dreamed that, with Curly Sue and another real-life friend, I was going to try to sneak across the U.S.-Mexico border by rafting across the river. At no point was it clear whether we were trying to get from Mexico to the U.S. or from the U.S. to Mexico, or even why we were crossing clandestinely (a lot of things in this dream weren't clear).
At the beginning, I was trying to pack my things to go. I had it in my head that I needed to fit everything necessary for 8 months or so into a small backpack, besides my share of the necessary stuff for the trip itself--tent, blow-up raft, life jacket, food, etc. All my possessions were disorganized and all over the floor of a room in my parents' house (different than my parents' house in real life). I was preparing for an academic year in a dorm atmosphere, so I was thinking about what I would need in that situation and including all kinds of not-strictly-necessary things like a tin of colored drawing pencils. I was also concerned about the mess I would be leaving behind, all the disorganized stuff that I wouldn't be taking with me.
After this packing stress went on for a while (forever, seemingly), I finally realized that this was just a trip to Establish a Presence, and that I was going to be able to retrieve more belongings later (what?), not to mention that wherever I was going was bound to have stores to buy things in. So this threw off my whole strategy and I had to start all over. By this time my traveling companions were pretty much ready to go, so knowing that I was holding them up added to the stress.
I ended up finally just throwing a change of clothes and what I thought was my share of the supplies into my bag, and we got ready to go through the security checkpoint (what? again). This was manned by U.S. agents, although, again, I'm not sure where we were leaving and where we were entering, or why (even better question) we were going through security and THEN sneaking over the border. The security procedure was onerous and there were lots of annoying, noisy kids running around underfoot.
We finally made it through, and then I realized that the river looked pretty wide, deep, and fast, and that I hadn't actually packed my life jacket. At this point, I think my companions' patience was running quite thin, especially after the whole security-checkpoint experience, so I decided to get a life jacket at the first opportunity instead of being picky.
The first opportunity turned out to be a ramshackle taco/life jacket/whatever else stand. They wanted $40 to rent a worn-out orange clip-in-the-front life jacket, to be returned the next day. I tried to find out what would happen if I didn't return it, but they were evasive on that point. Then I bought a taco, which turned out to be one somewhat undersized tortilla and one seriously undersized tortilla (silver dollar-sized), with about 6 bits of ground beef and a smear of vile-looking sauce (all this warmed up in a microwave). I was indignant and tried to protest to the seller, but my Spanish came out all wrong in my indignation (even including some French words), and the guy just laughed at me scornfully. (The guy manning this shady operation was a stout middle-aged Mexican guy with a distinct air of doing business with the wrong people, so I didn't rant for too long.)
After that, my companions revealed that they had been looking at the map to plan our route and had decided that the best strategy to avoid detection was to circle around--waaay around. The proposed route would include a trip through Big Bend, and we were going to take our giant SUV, so at least we could sleep inside it.
On that note, I think we decided we needed a real meal before undertaking the next leg of the trip, because the last thing I remember was a plate with some kind of chicken-fried-steak type meat atop a small mound of mashed potatoes. I was disconcerted because it wasn't the type of meal that fit in with the whole Texas/Mexico border theme, but I was also happy for something more substantial than the so-called "taco" from the stand.
At the beginning, I was trying to pack my things to go. I had it in my head that I needed to fit everything necessary for 8 months or so into a small backpack, besides my share of the necessary stuff for the trip itself--tent, blow-up raft, life jacket, food, etc. All my possessions were disorganized and all over the floor of a room in my parents' house (different than my parents' house in real life). I was preparing for an academic year in a dorm atmosphere, so I was thinking about what I would need in that situation and including all kinds of not-strictly-necessary things like a tin of colored drawing pencils. I was also concerned about the mess I would be leaving behind, all the disorganized stuff that I wouldn't be taking with me.
After this packing stress went on for a while (forever, seemingly), I finally realized that this was just a trip to Establish a Presence, and that I was going to be able to retrieve more belongings later (what?), not to mention that wherever I was going was bound to have stores to buy things in. So this threw off my whole strategy and I had to start all over. By this time my traveling companions were pretty much ready to go, so knowing that I was holding them up added to the stress.
I ended up finally just throwing a change of clothes and what I thought was my share of the supplies into my bag, and we got ready to go through the security checkpoint (what? again). This was manned by U.S. agents, although, again, I'm not sure where we were leaving and where we were entering, or why (even better question) we were going through security and THEN sneaking over the border. The security procedure was onerous and there were lots of annoying, noisy kids running around underfoot.
We finally made it through, and then I realized that the river looked pretty wide, deep, and fast, and that I hadn't actually packed my life jacket. At this point, I think my companions' patience was running quite thin, especially after the whole security-checkpoint experience, so I decided to get a life jacket at the first opportunity instead of being picky.
The first opportunity turned out to be a ramshackle taco/life jacket/whatever else stand. They wanted $40 to rent a worn-out orange clip-in-the-front life jacket, to be returned the next day. I tried to find out what would happen if I didn't return it, but they were evasive on that point. Then I bought a taco, which turned out to be one somewhat undersized tortilla and one seriously undersized tortilla (silver dollar-sized), with about 6 bits of ground beef and a smear of vile-looking sauce (all this warmed up in a microwave). I was indignant and tried to protest to the seller, but my Spanish came out all wrong in my indignation (even including some French words), and the guy just laughed at me scornfully. (The guy manning this shady operation was a stout middle-aged Mexican guy with a distinct air of doing business with the wrong people, so I didn't rant for too long.)
After that, my companions revealed that they had been looking at the map to plan our route and had decided that the best strategy to avoid detection was to circle around--waaay around. The proposed route would include a trip through Big Bend, and we were going to take our giant SUV, so at least we could sleep inside it.
On that note, I think we decided we needed a real meal before undertaking the next leg of the trip, because the last thing I remember was a plate with some kind of chicken-fried-steak type meat atop a small mound of mashed potatoes. I was disconcerted because it wasn't the type of meal that fit in with the whole Texas/Mexico border theme, but I was also happy for something more substantial than the so-called "taco" from the stand.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
extreme changes of mood
I woke up in a great mood yesterday after dreaming several pleasant things (I don't think any of them involved Johnny Depp). The only thing I can really remember was that I had made a lot of headway on a freelance translation career and had been engaged to translate a real book, and a work of fiction at that! I was hopeful that this was going to be a launching pad for a specialization in translating fiction and that I would end up being one of those translators the merits of whose versions get debated in scholarly papers.
Last night's dream was awful. My husband and I had decided to take a little jaunt to Paris. I don't know where we were, but Paris was within driving distance. The only problem was that I wasn't dressed appropriately and couldn't figure out what to wear. I was very flustered and nothing was coming together, although I was pretty sure that my rose-colored turtleneck* needed to figure in somewhere. He got really annoyed really quickly and stormed out to drive away in the car because I was taking too long, ignoring my tearful entreaties to wait.
It turned out that he had only gone for a short drive because he was feeling antsy and didn't want to sit there while I had a closet meltdown, but it was still pretty harrowing. He came back after about 15 minutes, not mad at all, but I think I woke up before we could get to Paris.
*Notable because this is one of the very rare occasions when an item I actually own shows up in a getting-dressed dream.
Last night's dream was awful. My husband and I had decided to take a little jaunt to Paris. I don't know where we were, but Paris was within driving distance. The only problem was that I wasn't dressed appropriately and couldn't figure out what to wear. I was very flustered and nothing was coming together, although I was pretty sure that my rose-colored turtleneck* needed to figure in somewhere. He got really annoyed really quickly and stormed out to drive away in the car because I was taking too long, ignoring my tearful entreaties to wait.
It turned out that he had only gone for a short drive because he was feeling antsy and didn't want to sit there while I had a closet meltdown, but it was still pretty harrowing. He came back after about 15 minutes, not mad at all, but I think I woke up before we could get to Paris.
*Notable because this is one of the very rare occasions when an item I actually own shows up in a getting-dressed dream.
Monday, September 14, 2009
vitamins
I had the most tiring dreams last night. So tiring and annoying that I've blocked out the memory--except for a hazy recollection of a weird science-fiction amalgamation. It was kind of half machine, half plant, and I think I was responsible for it somehow (as in, I was supposed to observe it and/or take care of it). Vitamins played some very important role in the story.
Monday, August 17, 2009
miscellaneous husband dreams
I dreamed I was on some kind of group outing, and the female part of the group was supposed to all be getting haircuts. I was waiting around for mine when my phone rang. It was my husband, and he sounded extremely stressed and not like himself. After some digging to find out what was wrong, he said that he had gotten into an altercation with someone at work and ended up punching the guy. I was somewhat relieved, because he sounded so upset I was afraid it would be something much worse.
He was freaking out about losing his job and maybe even going to jail over this [apparently somewhat-merited] punch, but I was pretty calm about it. I tried to remind him that he had a very good record at work, that there had been witnesses to the situation, and that probably they would just discipline him somehow instead of firing him. I figured that we were going to have to hire a lawyer, though, and that we were probably in for a couple of years of expense and complications before the whole thing got ironed out.
Also on the subject of husband-related dreams, I dreamed the other night that he offered our larger, unrulier dog to my sister (who is not in the market for such a high-maintenance beast). She was interested, but then he started to have second thoughts and specified that he only wanted her to take the dog for a couple of years--until he [the dog] calmed down and got older and easier to deal with, basically. I told him that he couldn't just try to pawn his dog off on someone for his unruly years and want him back when he was better-behaved.
He was freaking out about losing his job and maybe even going to jail over this [apparently somewhat-merited] punch, but I was pretty calm about it. I tried to remind him that he had a very good record at work, that there had been witnesses to the situation, and that probably they would just discipline him somehow instead of firing him. I figured that we were going to have to hire a lawyer, though, and that we were probably in for a couple of years of expense and complications before the whole thing got ironed out.
Also on the subject of husband-related dreams, I dreamed the other night that he offered our larger, unrulier dog to my sister (who is not in the market for such a high-maintenance beast). She was interested, but then he started to have second thoughts and specified that he only wanted her to take the dog for a couple of years--until he [the dog] calmed down and got older and easier to deal with, basically. I told him that he couldn't just try to pawn his dog off on someone for his unruly years and want him back when he was better-behaved.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
packing and work stress
Right before I woke up I dreamed that I was on a trip with my husband and sister (maybe some other family members, but if so, not many). We were nearing the end of the trip and had to get our stuff packed up to go back home. We were in some kind of corporate conference-room-like place (middlebrow, not high-end) attached to a huge supermarket that was in turn in a mall. I guess we had been sleeping there, although there weren't any beds to be seen. My clothes had multiplied, and I had bought some things on the trip; there was no way I was going to get everything back in the suitcase, and I was stressed about it.
To further stress me, someone from my actual job came up and started telling me about the things she wanted me to buy at the supermarket. They were not necessary things at all, just things she happened to want, and I was irritated that she was asking for this when I was clearly busy (well, I was somewhat irritated that she was asking at all). I said, a bit too forcefully, "Yeah, yeah, yeah! I'll get it!" Then, alarmed by having shown my irritation so obviously, I tried to backpedal by adding, "I'm going to get one of those magnetic pads to put on the refrigerator too, so you guys can write down what you want on there."
Ugh.
To further stress me, someone from my actual job came up and started telling me about the things she wanted me to buy at the supermarket. They were not necessary things at all, just things she happened to want, and I was irritated that she was asking for this when I was clearly busy (well, I was somewhat irritated that she was asking at all). I said, a bit too forcefully, "Yeah, yeah, yeah! I'll get it!" Then, alarmed by having shown my irritation so obviously, I tried to backpedal by adding, "I'm going to get one of those magnetic pads to put on the refrigerator too, so you guys can write down what you want on there."
Ugh.
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