Bad Dream 214 -- Who is that Person?

In my dream, I am at work -- and am probably several decades younger than I am now.  

I'm in a busy office setting, with a dozen or so other workers.  Everyone seems to be moving around from desk to desk and coming and going out the doors.  I recognize some of the people who are circulating around as folks I used to work with, and feel good about being near them.  (But I'm not looking to interrupt whatever it is they're doing to chat with them.)

My current job is to write some kind of specification or Request for Quote or somesuch.  Before I get to writing the details of the project at hand, I need to write an introductory page to assist the reader in understanding the details that follow.  

I know that the Company has a fairly standard format for this document, and it's expected that all our projects start with the intro page fashioned that way.  So I'm looking for a previously prepared document so I can use that as a guide in my own intro sheet.  

As I'm looking around and considering asking someone if they have a copy of this format I could borrow, I notice that there's someone who looks very much like a Buddhist monk standing in the middle of the work area.  He's on the smallish side, has a face the color and worn look you might expect from an elderly Buddhist monk.  He's bald and he's wearing this wonderful robe you might also expect of a highly respected monk in Buddhist circles.  

People walk around this person, but no one speaks to him.  No one seems surprised he's there, despite all the differences in appearance between him and everyone else in the office.  

Somehow or other, I find myself in a discussion with this fellow.  And he's explaining the way my document should be fashioned.  HIs way is based on the ethereal concepts one might expect to hear from a Buddhist monk -- and it has little or nothing to do with my project.  Were I to follow his instructions, I would have a lot of explaining to do to my superiors.  

Since this fellow seems to be accepted in the office and since he speaks with such authority, I find myself caught between creating the document this guy suggests or following the regular protocol -- as soon as I can find a copy of the regular protocol.  The advantage of doing it this guy's way is that I at least know what to write -- regardless of how disconnected it may seem to the project.  

I continue looking around for help in getting a copy of the standard format, and am considering leafing through the papers sitting on peoples' desks for one.  

As I walk around looking for what to do next, I see the monk, who has set aside his wonderful robe and is getting into a head-to-toe zip-up denim overalls typically worn by someone who expects to get very dirty.  

I wake up.  

 

Bad Dream 213 -- Getting Home on a Bicycle, Maybe

 In my dream, I am living in Philadelphia and trying to get home.  I have a bicycle that has just been tuned up for my transportation.  (In my waking life, I do have a bicycle that's just been tuned up.)

It's nighttime and warm.  Traffic seems to be its normally busy self.  I'm north of Center City and my home is east of Broad Street down around Pine Street or thereabouts.  A neighborhood that I did, in fact, once live. 

I'm pedaling along a street, making progress and having the general feeling that I'm headed in the right direction.  I notice that, when I shift gears on my bike there's a considerable amount of chatter and some vibration as the chain moves in or out from gear to gear.  I'm surprised, as the chain moved quietly when shifting -- before I had the bike "tuned up."  I make a mental note to check with the bike shop the next day to make sure I'm doing things right or that the bike needs another trip to the shop for further adjustment.  

From time to time, as I ride from one street to the next, turning occasionally, I make a turn onto a road that I recognize and that gives me confidence that I'm moving in the right direction.  At other times, I'm riding through a very pleasant neighborhood that I don't recognize at all.  

So much of the dream, I'm riding through neighborhoods I recognize -- then don't -- then recognize again.  For whatever reason, I recall transversing Vine Street as a landmark and assuring me that I was moving in the right direction.  Doing this and trying to cope with a bicycle that was losing parts and becoming more difficult to operate as time went on.

At some point (south of Vine Street), I met up with a woman whom I guess was Deb simply because we knew each other deeply.  And she and I started moving towards home again.  I hopped on my bike, only to discover that the front tire was completely flat, making the bike -- finally -- completely unrideable.  

I wake up.

Reading over this to proof it, I recall a series of dreams I had years ago.  I would visit a bicycle shop -- I think in downtown Philadelphia -- and talk with the manager/owner about getting the perfect bicycle for me.  The shop was strictly repair business like -- no showroom, no line of new bicycles to choose from.  We decided on the right bike for me, which the manager/owner didn't have available but could order.  And after several visits, I purchased and rode away from the shop on my new bike. 
And my memory tells me that the bike was yellow.  Just like my real-life bike.  

Bad Dream 212 -- What are they talking about?

 I've always been good at math.  (Well, except for Calculus, but there are reasons for that...)  

But in my dream, I am totally at a loss about this new kind of math: 

In my dream, I'm in a class remindful of the Special Program I endured back at college.  The other students in the class are people that I kind of know from other classes, but not any good friends.  I'm a younger version of myself -- maybe early 20's or so.  The teacher/professor is a woman not much older and very sure of herself.  (If it means anything, I should note that the prof is rather good-looking and wearing a dress that is more dressy than one would expect for classroom attire.)

She is introducing a new kind of mathematics but doesn't bother explaining what it's for.  That is, what kind of problems this math will help solve.  I'm pretty sure she gives it a name, but I don't recall what it is.

The session proceeds in a manner reminiscent, now that I think of it, of classes back at Drexel: here's the procedure for doing something that is in the curriculum for you to learn with no explanation of why or context relating to the real world.  Follow the procedure and you will get a decent grade and move on to the next class.

She gives a list of what seems to be perfectly random words and semi-words.  And next to each of them, there's a short "explanation" of that particular entry on the list.  If you come across this element in your work, here's information about that element.  None of these elements seems related to any of the other elements and I highly doubt I would ever come across any of them in any manner.  

I think she hands out a list of these random elements and then gives a few "examples" of how to use the list: "If you come across this element, here's what to do about it."  Or words to that effect.  

I think I asked her for a real-world example of how this might be useful or even implemented.  She gives me this look of "Geez, why do they put such morons in my class?" and then ignores me.  

There is now a class exercise to show that the student has successfully understood what to do with the elements on the list she's handed out.  And my classmates are busy working away at the assignment.  Sometimes they're working alone and sometimes in a small group.  It's obvious to me that everyone else in class is keyed in to what they're supposed to do.  But I'm at a complete loss.  

I ask one or two of my classmates for assistance, but he/she/they are so caught up in completing the assignment that they don't have time to help me.       

There is a fellow off to the side who is, I guess, an assistant to the professor.  He's a bit older than the students and he has a kindly face.  I go over to him and ask him to give me one or two examples of how to use this list to solve an everyday problem.  He smiles and says something along the lines of "Well, suppose you wanted to count bees.  This is tricky as they move around a lot."  (This may be an example I added after waking up, but the idea is captured in what he's saying.)  He thinks about what he just said, and then says "No, that 's not really a very good example of how to use the list.  Let me think of another example..."

While he's thinking, I'm catching bits of conversation from other students and my own recollections of what we're supposed to be learning.  I scribble them down on a piece of paper with a very "broad-nibbed" pencil everything I'm hearing of remembering without any connection between one recollection and the next.  I think I could decipher what I'm writing down later on, but I doubt if anyone else could make any sense out of it.  

While he's trying to come up with another example, the teacher says that the class is ending and that we should turn in our assignment.  I'm now bordering on panic.  I now find that the one or two pieces of paper are the only thing(s) I could turn in -- but by doing so, I would lose any chance of figuring out what the assignment was all about.  I also find that I'm holding on to maybe 10 or 15 pages of notebook paper -- including the one or two of which have the notes that I've scribbled out plus other pages of similar size and writing.  So, do I turn in those pieces of paper (assuming I figure out which pieces of paper have my notes) just to show that I'm trying my best to keep up with the class OR do I keep my notes and try to figure out stuff after class is ended -- getting a Zero for today's assignment.

The other students are handing in their work as they leave and chatting comfortably about the experience they've just had.  To them, it seems to be just another class about stuff they are supposed to learn.  To me, it feels like a "make or break" moment in my education.  If I fall behind with this class, it's quite possible I could never catch up.  

I start walking towards the instructor, who's busy collecting papers from my fellow students.  I hope to explain my situation to her and throw myself on her mercy.  She looks over in my direction and gets a look of absolute distaste on her face.  Naw, I don't think I'm going to get any mercy from her...

I was relieved to wake up.  

Bad Dream 211 Key to the Truck

(my dream was considerably longer and more involved, but here's what I recall...)

In my dream, I am sitting in the cab of a tractor/trailer -- without a trailer attached to the back.  I've driven this rig on a number of occasions, but am not the only driver.  I feel very comfortable sitting here, knowing I'm about to start the engine and drive some place.  My destination is not clear to me as the dreamer, but the me in the dream knows where I'm going.  

Getting underway means starting the engine, so I'm looking over my keychain for the right key to insert in the ignition switch.  I go through all my keys on the chain -- there's something between 12 and 20 keys to sort through -- without any success.  I look at a key that might fit and move my hand and the key towards the switch.  To my surprise, there's already a key in the switch!

I'm concerned that this is a bad practice -- that anyone could have climbed into the cab and started the engine.  I make a mental note to talk to the people that might have left a key in the switch.  I then realize that the driver's side mirror is also very badly aligned -- almost pushed up against the door -- and grouse about the shoddy care that someone is taking with the truck.  

At the same time, I'm grateful to have the key available to me so I can start the truck and move towards my destination.  And there's some connection to a family get-together involved in my destination, and I feel good about getting to see everyone.

Bad Dream 210 Getting the New Boat Wet

 In my dream, I am getting a new sailboat ready for its initial trip.

This is not just any sailboat, it's an Optimist Pram -- the same design as the one I first learned how to sail when I was 10 years old.  Or thereabouts.  

At the start of the dream, I am standing next to the boat on dry shore.  It is likely on a boat trailer or other support, because it's high off the ground, making the onshore rigging easier.  I go to put the rudder in place, but halfway through the process, I realize the boat needs to be in the water for this to be done successfully.  So I putter around getting other things ready to go.  

There are other people around me and the boat, helping to make sure everything is ready.  I don't recognize faces or hear voices, but I'm pretty sure my older brother is part of this effort.  Quite possibly just standing nearby.

The scene changes, and the boat and I are in the shallow water.  I can now easily affix the rudder and tiller properly in their place at the back of the boat.  My dream does not include anything about setting the sail on the mast and spars or getting into the boat.  But I find myself properly on board with the sail filling nicely.  The boat begins to pick up speed via the power of the wind on the sail.  

As the boat gets underway, I realize that the water where we're sailing is the arm of the Chesapeake Bay where I learned how to sail and spent as much time as I could either swimming or sailing.  

As the boat moves forward, I see my older brother's head bobbing in the water slightly off to the side as I go sailing past him.  He looks neither pleased or worried.  It would seem he wanted to be there just in case we hadn't got the boat properly rigged or there was some other problem.  I look at him and he looks at me.  Both pretty expressionless.  

I look forward as the boat and I head out to open water.  

Bad Dream 209 A Trip Out West

In my dream, I am standing next to a rather fancy sedan car with a number of people in it.  I know most if not all of these people, but not intimately well.  Maybe we're at school together or work together at the same place.  The dream isn't clear on that.

The people and the car are headed out west to see the sights.  There's nothing specific in the dream about which sights, but it's likely is the landscape (plains, forests, mountains, etc.) rather than cities.  

At least on person in the car asks if I would like to come along on the trip.  The car is rather full, and the ask was rather luke warm.  If I didn't really want to go, I would have turned down the offer -- as I didn't want to cram myself and my stuff into an already crowded car.  (The car has bench seats, with three people to sit in the front and four in the back.)  But I really do want to go, so I say "Yes!  Thanks!!"  I understand that the rest of the folks in the car are not all that pleased, as the car seemed pretty full to start with, but no one was going to counter the invitation.  So I'm going.  And sure enough, the car is now absolutely crammed.

After we drive a while, we stop at a building out on the Plains somewhere.  I think it's part restaurant and part gas station and maybe part motel -- these three in descending order.  But we're certainly out of the car and into the building.  While most of the folks are in an adjoining room, I walk around a bit in the rest of the building.  What I notice is that the pitched ceiling is at least 15 feet high, rising to maybe 20 or 25 feet.  My first and only thought about this is that it would be a wonderful place to juggle.  I want to tell the lady who seems to be the proprietor of the establishment, but I think I don't get the chance.

We are now back at the sedan and getting ready for the next leg of our trip, and I look inside and see the guys with their luggage on their laps and grimacing at the crowded condition.  I walk to the back of the car and open the trunk by simply pressing on the circular keylock.  (I'm a bit surprised but pleased that the trunk opened that easily.)  And behold, there's absolutely nothing in the trunk -- and a huge amount of space.  

I bring this news to the guys who are already in the car, and soon most if not all the luggage is out of the cabin of the car and safely stowed in the trunk.  When I go to get in the car with everyone else, I see that the only open place is in the front seat next to the window.  Hey!  I'm riding shotgun!  It would seem possible -- and maybe likely -- that folks arranged this so that I get this highly prized seat as a "Thank you" for finding the trunk.  

Bad Dream 208 Not Going to Make it for Golf

In my dream, I am looking to schedule a "Tee Time" to play golf at a local course -- something like 5 or 10 miles away.  I have played for some considerable time, but haven't played recently.  

I phone the local course and ask for a tee time later that day.  I am informed that they wouldn't schedule a single player that day, but only groups of 3 or 4.  I explain how important it is for me to play today (I don't remember the reason...) but please, please let me play today!  The person I'm speaking to finally relents, but I have to be at the course in a very short time.  (I also don't recall exactly how quickly I need to be there, but it's less than an hour or so...)

I my dream, my only transportation is a child's tricycle.  I wasn't expecting this development, but I have to go with what's available.  It's too small for me to sit on and pedal, so I must stand at  the back platform and push my way forward by push-kicking the tricycle.  (I realize after I wake up that I don't have any golf clubs with me.  I might have placed them in a car or truck or bus, but none of them is available.  So I guess I expected to borrow clubs from the course.)

I head out on the road -- traffic is never a problem in my dream -- and come across a small side road.  I'm pretty sure that this smaller road is a "short cut" to get to the course, so I turn onto the smaller road and head off.

Shortly after this decision, I realize I don't recognize anything around me, so I must have been mistaken.  But I'm far enough along this smaller road that it makes no sense to double back, so I keep on going.  

On two separate occasions in the dream, I stop at old-fashioned gas stations and ask for directions.  On both occasions, the attendants are really trying to help, but no one on either occasion knows which golf course I might be aiming at.  There seem to be several of them not far away.

On one occasion, the attendant gets out a map with hopes that I could orient myself with the information on the map.  The map shows three or four golf courses -- all of which are not that far away, but going towards any one of them takes me farther away from any of the others.  And I have forgotten the name of the course.

I realize that I will never get to any of those courses in the time that was allotted during my phone call.  There is a phone available in the gas station that I am invited to use to get in touch with the course and ask for more time; but since I can't remember the name of the course I've chosen, I can't make that call.