Bad Dream 142 -- Morning of 3/30/21

In my dream, I'm standing in a supermarket, getting ready to check out.  (My dream does not include any reference as to what I'm buying -- and maybe that means something...)  As I approach the check-out line, I realize I know the cashier -- somewhat informally, but enough that we can call each other by our first names.

I hand her money in payment.  It's some number of dollars (don't recall how many) and seven cents.  As I would normally do in a situatiion like this, I hand her strictly paper cash, expecting change.  She looks at me apologetically and tells me it has to be the exact change.  Puzzled but undaundted, I take back some of the paper money and hand her the only coin I have in my pocket, which is a dime.  In doing this, I tell her she can keep the extra three cents, but it seems that's unacceptable as well.  "Exact" means exact.  

(There's a scene change in the dream.  It's not part of the dream to elaborate on how this dilemma was resolved.)

I am now outside the supermarket and discover, much to my amazement that I have a pocketful of loose change, and could come up with the seven cents amount many different ways and do it again and again with the change I have. I go back inside the supermarket to "settle up" (a phrase from my notes) the above-mentioned issue about payment.   

Inside, I see that folks are building some "gateways" that look like toll booths for pedestrians.  The're light brown (as in imiatation wood) and have one or more (not sure) lights overhead that might be red and green for getting through the gate, as in "Go" and "Stop."  There are other bits of construction work going on in the midst of it being a supermarket with aisles of food and so forth.  I'm not informed as to what this other construction stuff -- or the "gateways" either -- are all about, but it doesn't feel like a good thing is unfolding.  Somebody seems to be looking to take heavy handed control of the people in the store.  

I hear a voice which I believe must be one of the people guiding this building process.  The voice says: "(something) (something) to take care of Randy if he comes back."  Clearly, it's time for me to get out and the concern about seven cents dwindles in importance.

I'm now outside the building looking in through the large front windows at the activity inside, trying to figure out what was going on.  Doing so, I see the face of someone I knew back in either elementary school or junior high or maybe both.  It's a girl's/woman's face which is unmistakeable from what I remember.  I don't recall her name and now, being awake and writing this report, I'm surpised and puzzled that I recall her face as clearly as I did.  

She was somebody who shared a number of classes with me and someone I would have liked to know better.  It was a kind face and much a more interesting face than simply being pretty.   Among other things, her compexion suggested that some of her ancestry was not typical "white," but slightly darker, but not African-American. The me that I am now would certainly want to chat her up and see how she was doing and what she remembered of our shared school experiences etc., etc.  But the me from back then was essentially terrified of female persons of any age, so chatting her up back then was way beyond possibility.  She's looking out the window and might well be looking at me.  I can't tell...  

It was quite a shock to see her.  I think I recall that "Wow, it's nice to have her here in my dream, but she really doesn't seem to fit.  Or maybe she does and I just don't understand how or why just yet."  So not only was her face a surprise but the momentary elevation out of the dream was also a surprise.  I think I recall making the decision to drop back into the dream story.  Pick it up where it left off.  

Seeing her the age I am now and recalling her fondly, I had a strong temptation to re-enter the supermarket and tell her about my fear that something bad was going to happen in there some time soon.  But I also felt that might put me back in danger, remembering that it seemed someone was making plans to do someting to or about me "if I came back."  

So, do I go back and warn her -- risking myself in the process -- or do I just keep going and hope that things are okay for her?  As the dream ends, I am allowing my momentum to carry me away from the supermarket, but feel I might change my mind at any moment.  But I also understand that, if I decided to do that, the sooner the better, as whatever bad thing might be in the works might begin at any moment.

I wake up.

Bad Dream 141 -- Morning of 10/5/19 (Out of Chronology)

I found this dream on a thumb drive.  I'm not sure why I didn't enter it directly into Blogspot, but I'm glad to have re-discovered it.  I remembered I had a dream about a bee... and this is it:

In my dream, I am in a large room with a great many other people in it.  They’re all grownups. And we’re all here for some kind of presentation or meeting of some kind.  I wasn’t “informed” as to what the subject at hand was…

Everyone is friendly, and there is a goodly amount of chit-chat going on and the presentation should start sometime soon.  It occurs to me that most everyone – or everyone – is wearing either a sweatshirt or (possibly/occasionally) a T-shirt.  And there is always a name on the shirt.  The only one I can recall is a shirt labeled “OHIO,” but I think there’s a considerable variety in what word is there – but they’re all either names of places or (possibly) the name of a school.

There is a large bee – a bumblebee sort of critter – flying around the room.  It flies from the left side of the room, then over to the right side.  If it lands at all, it’s only momentarily and then it takes off again.  It flies very quickly – almost as if it’s angry.  I wouldn’t want it to land on me or crash into me. 

I marvel that an animal that small can have so much energy.

It would seem that the meeting/performance/presentation isn’t getting underway until the bee issue is resolved.  Nothing is being said to that effect, it’s just a feeling that I have.  That if someone could stop the incessant flying back and forth, someone else would announce: “Well, now we can get started!”  Just a feeling on my part. 

The bee occasionally lands (momentarily) fairly close to me, and on one occasion, I almost have the opportunity to trap it under a juice glass.  (And from there, slide a piece of paper underneath and thereby be able to escort the bee outside – which is what I’m sure it would like to have happen.)  But I’m not quick enough and in any case, the glass had been used for some beverage that left a heavy residue on the inside.  So if I had captured the bee, it might have gotten clogged up with the residue.  Not a good thing.

I understand I have the capacity and requisite equipment to kill the bee.  And no one else, it seems, is equipped to do that. 

I’m torn between these two options: allow the bee to continue buzzing about and preventing the session from getting underway OR to swat the critter (with considerable regret) and assist in getting the program going. 

 

 

Bad Dream 140 -- Morning of 3/2/21

In my dream, I am driving along a road (westbound) that looks very similar to West Chester Pike in the "undeveloped" stretch.  I pull off to the side of the road -- on the right, of course -- adjacent to an "undeveloped" field with tall brown grass (maybe knee or thigh high) that has a small open area, making it easy to get my car completely off the highway.  

I'm familiar with this spot, having driven past it many times and often thinking "One of these days, I will pull my car off the road and take a look around here."  And today is the day I'm actually doing this.  

There is a pair of orange road cones somewhat blocking the pull-off area, but I decide that, whatever the reason for the cones being here, it shouldn't affect my intention of a brief investigation.  The pull-off area looks as if people have done this "get out of your car" visit occasionally, so I feel okay in doing what I'm doing.  

I plan on walking through the grass, and it looks like others have done the same, as the grass has been stepped on and laid flat up ahead.  Shortly before I start to walk into the grassy area, I see a pole stuck in the ground.  It's maybe 5 or 6 inches in diameter and it's hollow.  I think there's some decoration on at least part of the pole -- a spiral red line like a barber's pole.  

I put my hands around the pole and lift it.  I find that it lifts easily and I can pull it completely free of the ground.  When I do so, I see that the hole into which the pole had been placed is lined by a metal tube, which holds back the soil and allows the pole to be moved into and out of the ground.  I lay the pole on its side for a moment, then decide to replace it into the hole.  I don't know what it's for, but if someone else wants it there and upright, I should comply with that desire.   

I find that there is something of a path through the tall grass, leading in the general direction of a patch of woods, maybe 150 yards or so past the tall grass section.  The ground and therefore the path dip down a bit as I walk along, so that looking back towards my car, I can only see the top portion of my car and the occasional other cars driving past my location.   

As I approach the wooded area, I see that there is a fantastic elevated enclosed walkway surrounding a bare patch in the woods.  I couldn't see it earlier because there is maybe 75 or 100 feet of treed area between the grassy stretch and the open area.  The walkway is pure white and seems immaculate from where I'm standing.  The walls and roof form something of a octagonal shape in cross section rather than simply rectangular.  Very space-age looking!  There are windows in the walls, but they look dark, suggesting they're shaded or the interior of the walkway is unlit.  

My thought is that being in the walkway would be a perfect place to stand or sit and watch the wildlife in the bare patch.  It winds around the open bare patch for maybe a quarter of the circumference, with windows looking out onto the bare patch.  But the bare patch might be half an acre or a bit more in size, so that the likelihood of seeing interesting wildlife would seem unlikely -- and certainly not deserving the elaborate walkway.  

I think this would be an interesting place to understand -- and that I would need to do some serious investigation to get that understanding.    

As I turn to check out my car, I notice that another car is pulling into the pulloff area behind my car.  I don't think it's a police car, but feel I'd better get back to my car just in case. 

I wake up.