Bad Dream 146 -- Failing a Test and Explaning to Myself

 At the start of my dream, I am taking an exam.  It's an important one, but one for which I am poorly prepared.  There are two sections to the questions one of which looks for short, simple, factual answers and the other of which looks for essay type answers.  I'm struggling with the first part (but I don't remember which of the two the "first part" is...) and feel that if I can only get through that part, I can be more successful with the other part.  Whichever way the "first" and "second" are arranged.  And if I did that, I might score high enough to at least get a passing grade on the overall exam.  But something keeps me slogging away at this "first part."  Am I just being stubborn?

The other students taking the test are finishing up their submittals,submitting their papers to the instructor, gathering their belongings, and leaving.  I know I have some time left before the instructor comes and takes my test away, and I know it won't be enough time to get a passing grade.  In fact, if he/she gave me a week or two to finish, it still wouldn't be enough.  

I don't know what the consequences of this failure are going to be, but I know it's serious.  

My dream shifts to my presence in a group of people arranged in a circle.  We're sitting in those industrial type chairs that are almost comfortable, but not quite.  Many of the people in the circle are relatives of mine, although I don't recognize any individual.  At least not at this point in my dream -- with one exception: my Grandfather (hereinafter "GF") is sitting in one of these chairs and he knows about my failure in the aforementioned exam.  And while he's not pleased about my performance, he at least seems willing to listen to my version of what happened.  

For reasons that are certainly not clear here, some of the people sitting in the circle are Afro American.  And most everybody except GF are fairly young -- 20's and 30's.  And the topic of conversation is my exam performance.  

I feel that what I have to say is in the way a confession.  I'm opening up and letting it all out about why I think things went so badly on the exam.  I think about letting everyone know about my decision to stick with the hard part of the exam rather than switching to the easier part, but feel that would only lengthen the conversation and add more topics to explore that I don't feel would help anybody understand what happened -- and certainly not help me.  

After some chatter amongst many of the people sitting in the circle, GF takes over.  In a remarkably (to me!) even tone, he asks for my understanding of what took place.  After all, I'm such a bright guy, why can't I ace a test like this?

And something occurs to me that seems salient: I tell the circle of folks -- but mainly GF -- that being bright was actually an important part of the problem.  Being bright, I managed to get through public school and into college without learning how to study or how to do homework that was challenging.  Little did I face that required me to do either.  

So when I was faced with a course and an exam that required me to do at least one of those two things, I failed miserably.  And the exam that was given was perfectly fair in showing up this failure on my part.  As I explain this to everyone, I feel a renewed energy.  

I expect my GF to come down on me like a ton of bricks.  I'm fairly sure that my real life GF would have done that -- and do that because it would help shake me out of my complacency.  Much to my surprise, my GF nodded slowly as if to say "Yes, I can see how that would happen.  It's unfortunate but I understand it."  

My nephew Jay perks up and starts talking about how this phenomenon relates to Modern Society -- and as he talks he gets farther afield from the issues at hand.  But I'm impressed with his understanding of the World Around Us, and when he's done, I compliment him on his perspicacity and insights.   

I then take this opportunity to launch into a story that helps confirm this analysis of mine.  (As in: "I remember back when I was...")  After I start, I realize that the story will be a long and boring one for the people in my circle.  They won't really care and will consider my relating the story to be an intrusion of self-indulgence.  But I don't think I can stop now.

But as I start plodding through the story, our circle is beset by a bunch of kids who have just been let out of school.  (What school? and from where? are issues that don't show up in the dream.)  The volume of noise they bring easily drowns out my own story.   I try to raise my voice louder, but it clearly isn't going to work.

I wake up.  

Bad Dream 145 -- Morning of 6/1/21

 In my dream, I'm a Technical Trainer (aka. Teacher) again -- I think at Leeds & Northrup once more.  I'm preparing to teach a one-week course on a control system for level control on a large pond or similar body of water.  The system is totally mechanical -- no electronic components -- which is unusual for me, and I'm looking forward to the class.  The mechanical pieces are wonderfully clever and look to be foolproof, simple, easy to maintain, and durable.  

Somehow, I let time get away from me, and it is now the morning of the class to start.  Now, there are three components for presenting a class like this: a solid lecture with whiteboard sketches, physical "show-and-tell" pieces, and good documentation.  You can get by with two out of the three or, if you're lucky and talented, you can get by with only one.  I don't have any of the three ready to go.  Among other things, I can't recall the details of how the system actally works.  I do recall it's relatively simple, but that's hardly enough for a training course.

I visit an area where I might find actual pieces of the system or -- if incredibly lucky -- the complete package that we could disassemble and reassemble.  But there's no luck at all. Nothing available.  

For reasons unknown, I find myself outside, standing at the top of a considerable steep hill (bordering on a cliff) roughly 30 feet high or so and made entirely of loose soil.   And I need to get to the bottom to continue my search for anything that might be useful for the class.  I scramble down the cliff face getting considerably dusty and dirty.  (I'm wearing a nice shirt and necktie.)  At the bottom, I look around for whatever I thought would be helpful, but find nothing.  (At some point in my searching, I find myself just outside a shed with all sorts of mechanical stuff -- none of which look in the slightest as being helpful.  But I don't recall whether the shed is at the top of bottom of the cliff.)  

So I scramble back up the cliff, causing dirt to become dislodged under my feet and threatening to make me slide back down the hill.  

Somewhere along this process, I realize that my students are now likely gathering in the classroom waiting for me to start the program.  I can't recall whether the class is supposed to start at 8:00 AM or 9:00.  Nor do I know exactly what the time it is now.

The scene shifts and I'm in the hallway of some building or other with other people walking around.  I hear someone -- who might be Bob Hubby! -- talking fondly about Chuck Schumer's castigating of the Republican Party voting "No" on the January 6th commission.   I agree with him totally, but can't stop trying to find something -- anything! -- that will help me start the class.  

I wake up.

Bad Dream 144 -- Morning of 4/24/21

In my dream, I have just shown up at a camp of some sort.  In the woods -- a pleasant place to be -- with the aroma of the evergreen trees permeating most everything.  It is evening.  

I walk into a fairly large room -- maybe 30 feet on a side -- which has been set up as a "bunk house" for maybe eight or ten people.  And there are at least five or six people in the room at the moment.  All men.  Different sizes and ages and faces.  They seem to know each other by the chitchat they're sharing, and I guess I am known to them and they to me, because no introductions seem to be necessary.  And no one comes over to me to welcome me.  I know that I'm the last one to show up for whatever it is that we've come here for. 

It seems that everyone in the room is setting aside the day's activities and is at the starting point to getting ready for bed.  But everyone is still dressed in their street clothes.  Everyone has chosen their bed, and there are a variety of beds scattered across the room.  Some look quite sumptuous and others almost austere.  Understandably, being the last one to arrive, my bed is the least desirable: a very simple Army-variety of cot.  Single mattress maybe 4 inches thick on a metal network suspended on the edges with coiled springs.  

The chatter around me continues and little if any attention is paid to me.  It's all quite chummy.  They assume I understand what's going on and can take care of myself.  And maybe there's nothing really they could do to help me anyway.  

I can resign myself to the bed -- I've slept on these things before -- but I'm concerned about who's going to snore, which would certainly keep me awake.  And I don't like the position of my bed, which is towards the middle of the room.  I see space in the far corner, which would have the advantages of keeping me out of traffic, maybe a little less noise, and putting me closer to the windows.  The windows are on both walls near my corner, and there's a wonderfully cool and fragrant breeze travelling between them.  With all these grown-up men's bodies in this one room, a cool and fragrant breeze will be a blessing.  Yup, I'm fortunate to have this space for me!  So I pick up my cot (fortunately, being so simple, it's also lightweight) and carry it over to my corner.

The pleasant chatter continues and no one seems to be making arrangements to get to sleep.  I begin to wonder if anyone will get to sleep at all... 

I begin to consider how I will settle down for sleep myself, even if no one else in the room is going to do that.  I notice that there is a simple wall lamp attached to one of the walls that should shine a light directly over the place where I intend to lay my head.  Yay!  A reading lamp that shouldn't bother anyone else in the room!  

I reach up to turn the light on -- really just to test that the light works -- and it falls off the wall.  It had been held in place with two screws into the drywall without anchors.  So the screws simply pulled cones of drywall out with them when the lamp fell.  Meaning that the remaining holes are much larger in diameter than the screws, making the screws useless.  And there are no tools around to be had.  

I start to search for some other method of supporting the lamp.  I had felt so fortunate in having the lamp, I'm reluctant to give it up.  

Bad Dream 143 -- Morning of 4/23/21

I think context is important to understand what this dream was all about.  The dream happened on a Friday morning.  The previous Tuesday, I had a "Fusion MRI Prostate Biopsy" checking on the possibility of prostate cancer.  It was full, but relatively light anesthesia, and I felt pretty good immediately afterwards.  Deb drove me home, as it was required that I would not drive a car for 24 hours after the procedure.  But I felt that, if I had to drive, I could do so in safety.

On the way home, I became increasingly uncomfortable -- feeling a bit woozy and experiencing pain in my buttocks.  It got worse.  I asked Deb to stop at the Wawa we were approaching, and she said "Fine.  It give me a chance to pick up some milk."  I just wanted to get out in the fresh air and straighten my back.  She got out of the car to start walking in, and I got out of the car just because I felt so uncomfortable being in it.  I leaned up against the car, as I felt uncomfortable just being on my feet without support.  I felt a series of "intgernal subroutines" failing, just giving up, and thought to myself "I wonder if this is how it feels to die?"  The next thing I knew, I was on the ground and maneuvering my hands on the pavement to get back on my feet. So I didn't die, but I certainly did black out for a few moments.  

After getting fully erect, I felt better, got back into the car, and we drove home without further incident.  (BTW, Deb didn't get the milk.  Thought looking after me was more important.)   But that question about "Is this how people die?" has stayed with me.  This series of internal shut-downs over which I had no control...

Anyway, to the dream.  This is only a fragment of a dream, but I think it of value to document:

In what I remember of my dream, I am outside of a house.  It is a very pleasant evening with a moderate temperature and light breeze.  I can see a few streetlights as well as houselights in this quiet suburban neighborhood.  I think there was some kind of family/friends gathering inside the house that was just breaking up, and that I had been in that gathering.  And I'm fairly sure that Martha was also part of that gathering. 

I am walking towards the street where there is at least one car parked -- and I would need a ride to get home.  It's my brother David's first car -- the one that Dad gave him -- a Chevy Nova (I think) which was too small for most stuff and barely running.  It was only David's energy and insight as to what the car needed to keep going that kept it running.  And David was proud of his accomplishment, and justifiably so.  

I got into the car, which was a bit tricky, as the car was so small.  But once I got in, it was fine.  And David was nearby and I expected him to get in and drive me home.  All would be well.

I was then called to by other people, including Martha, that their car was also available to take me home.  But I decided to stay with David in his car.  

And what concerns me about this dream is that David died a number of years ago from prostate cancer. And the energy and insight that he applied to his car he also applied to himself as treatment after treatment almost worked...  So what, if anything, does it mean that I decided to stay in David's car?? 

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.