more [overflowing] baggage

I had a long, detailed, and unsettling dream this morning. I was on a group trip (sigh) with a lot of college-age kids (I was also that age), including some random former classmates from elementary school through college.

The trip was to India, and we were staying at a large, run-down resort. The hotel was very old, and pieced-together in the way of old buildings that have been added on to over and over. It was a weird mixture of good old (antiques), just run-down old, and new. There were a couple of pools outside that were especially impressive: a freshwater infinity pool and, just beside it overlooking the actual ocean, a rocky saltwater pool. The rocks were set up so that the seawater sloshed in and out over them, but swimmers wouldn't be washed out to sea. It was a really nice setup, so nice that the temptation to swim there overcame my desire to not expose my flabby belly.

There was some random exploration of the hotel, and a lot of time spent on my part preparing to swim. This involved showering, picking out the most flattering combination of a variety of unmatching two-pieces, and putting on various lotions and makeup. I was very stuck on the idea that I needed to look as good as possible for the swimming, but I also recognized that I was being obsessive, and I was frustrated that supper time was approaching and it was going to be too late to swim for more than a few minutes.

Other hotel curiosities were the stairways and elevators. The stairways were very narrow and low-ceilinged, so low-ceilinged that I was hesitant to try them. The hotel contained a lot of stories, though, so I decided to try the elevator. It seemed normal when I stepped in with another person, but morphed into a sort of minivan when we got down to ground level. She took charge and drove it, rather crazily, to another building on the resort grounds. I decided not to take the elevator again.

The whole atmosphere became a little oppressive once I started paying attention. The workers at the resort, if not openly hostile, obviously hated us all and hated the fact that we were there. Most of them were quiet about it, but not all. On an exploratory trip with some other people on a remote upstairs wing of the building, we came to a large open room decorated with lots of Indian things--rugs, hanging lamps, etc. We were interested because it seemed like The Real Thing and not something for tourist consumption, but when the man inside it saw us he got up from his folding chair and started yelling and gesticulating wildly at us to leave. A couple of younger men who could have been his sons arrived and went inside the room to start some kind of ecstatic religious dance, while the man kept on yelling at us.

After that, I think there was another mini-episode in which I was trying to sort through overflowing baggage to get ready to swim (I never did get to swim in the whole dream).

Then things switched to another story line. I was still at the resort, but it was night and the group had been given free time. I was in an upper story, very reminiscent of an airport, with little bars one after the other, not separated by walls. I was following around an older guy who was a mixture of several former professors and bosses, with a dash of David Carradine thrown in. I wasn't sure why I was following him, but I knew I was supposed to stick with him even though he wasn't interacting much with me. His demeanor was sort of your average Troubled Antihero, silent, brooding, with his mind obviously on something. He would stop at one of the bars and order two drinks (once it was a "lemon fizz" and a gin and tonic, I can't remember the others), one of which was obviously supposed to be for me. Since I was following him somewhat at a distance, though, I wasn't quite sure what to do. He never really gestured for me to come over, but his two-drink order made it clear that I was supposed to be with him. Each time, he would get the two drinks, look at them distractedly, brood for a while, push them back toward the bartender, and leave for the next bar without actually consuming anything. I got the impression that all this was leading up to some kind of action of vengeance on his part, although toward whom I wasn't sure.

This puzzling action went on for a while, and he eventually morphed into my husband. I don't remember what happened then, except that I was relieved to be back on more familiar ground.

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.

how's this for blatantly symbolic?

i was leaving some sort of a hotel. as i walked through the lobby towards the exit, i passed my ex who was sitting with a group of friends. i ignored him and exited the hotel, with my little suitcase on wheels in tow.

there was an epically long wooden boardwalk that connected the hotel to the parking lot. i began walking this boardwalk, listening to the sound of my suitcase wheels thumping across the planks (i *do* hear in my dreams). after walking just a few feet away from the hotel, i came to a round table covered in brochures. i stopped for a moment to check them out when i heard the lobby doors open and someone walk up behind me. instinctively i knew it was my ex. he walked up and stood next to me at the table, hoping to get my attention. i laid down the brochure i was looking at and began walking again towards the parking lot.

i was nervous and very aware that he was following me. i tried to walk faster, but i had dream-legs (the kind that move slowly and feel all noodle-y). he continued to follow me, trying to catch up but always just a few steps behind.

finally a very large black man who was the hotel security guard came out of nowhere and made my ex return to the hotel. the large man approached me and told me that he "took care of the situation" and that i am now safe. i said something to the effect of "oh, he's harmless. i know him" and the security guard responded sternly that it was very inappropriate for my ex to be following me and that he needed to be stopped for my safety.

i continued walking down the long boardwalk, dragging my suitcase on wheels, feeling conflicted about what had just happened. i felt both a little disappointed that my ex never caught up with me and relieved that the security guard was so concerned for my well-being.