Bad Dream 151 -- Car Trip Interlude

 (This is a report of the remnants of this morning's dream -- 12/24/21.  It was considerably more complex than this.  It had quite a story line going, but this is all I can recall.)

In my dream, I am in the middle of a trip somewhere.  I am with folks I know, but am not closely attached.  We've just kind of agreed to take this trip together.

There are multiple cars involved in this trip -- and it's never clear in the dream as to where we're headed.  But we seem to know where our destination is, even if it's never clearly stated or understood in the dream.   

We're stopped at a waypoint somewhere, where we can spend some time.  I think we've been on the road for a considerable time and need a respite.  And the cars may need gas and or other servicing.  It's not clear how long that respite will be -- hours or days.  

Some people in our group are traveling together in the same vehicle, but I think I'm all by myself in a rather ratty old car.  There's rust and dents and maybe the doors don't close easily, but it runs well.  

At one point -- seemingly an interlude -- I'm driving my car with several other people aboard.  I think we're in a sizeable parking garage.  I'm a bit peeved at the folks in my car -- maybe they're making fun of the age and condition of the vehicle.  I decide to show off a bit by running the car directly at the wall at a corner of the garage, then putting the car in a 4-wheel drift to turn it in the proper direction for the turn.  It's a turn to the right.  As we approach the wall, sliding, I start to question whether I had properly gauged the speed and direction of the drifting car, so that we may make a large splat on the wall ahead.  The others in my car freak out somewhat, as do I. But we make the turn with a few inches to spare.  They seem impressed, but I recognize that it was simply a matter of having bad tires to make the car start sliding sideways.  

At another point in my dream -- not sure whether this was before or after the above story -- some woman is chastising me for somehow dismantling or disabling one of the seats in my car.  She explains to me why this is a problem for her.  (I forget the details...)  But after she leaves, I go to the area of the car she feels I've sabotaged and simply reconnect a couple of straps so that the seat is once again fully functional.  And I'm peeved that she took the occasion to make such a big fuss about this.  All she had to do was ask and I would have explained and reconnected the straps while she was still there.  

I decide to unpack some of my belongings from the car and move them to the room -- or at least the area in the building where we've stopped -- assigned to me.  I begin to realize that I've taken much too much stuff for this trip, but am now kind of stuck: I either continue to travel with all this stuff or abandon it here.  The only piece of stuff I recall is a boom box much like the one we now have in our "shed" at 140 Crosslands Drive.  

I've unloaded a number of things into this area -- asking myself "Why in the world did I decide to bring this particular thing on a trip like this?"  And after moving maybe 8 or 10 things from my car to my assigned area, I'm told that it's time to pack up and get back under way (or is it "weigh"?).  There seems to be some urgency to be ready to go ASAP, and most everyone -- who have much less stuff than I do -- can respond quickly.  But once again, I'm faced with the dilemma: Do I continue re-packing and possibly get disconnected from the "caravan" or do I abandon my stuff here and now so that I can stay up with the group? 

Bad Dream 150 -- Self Portrait

In my dream, I am looking at a painting that I made of myself.  It shows me from several inches below my shoulders to well over my head.  Personally, I think it's a very good likeness.

I have decided that, while the painting certainly looks like me -- in a very positive way -- that it would benefit if I "cropped" it.  That is, cut down the extraneous parts at the top and (possibly) bottom of the image.  (Interestingly, side-top-side looks okay and might have benefitted if I had painted a bit more on the sides.)  I think it's the case that, if I crop too much, I won't be able to restore the part(s) I removed.  

Since I can't decide how much needs to be cropped, so I ask the opinion of folks standing nearby.  I know most if not all of them, and trust their judgment on what would look best.  Much to my surprise and disappointment, no one wants to suggest anything.  And I don't hear any enthusiasm from anyone about the quality of the likeness.

Some of them point out that there's a lot of blue sky above my head in the painting -- probably too much -- and this could/should be reduced.  Cut off.  But no one is ready to say "So, cut it down to right here" and point to a specific spot on the image.  

 At least one friend looks at the painting and tells me that it doesn't look like me at all.  When I ask him "Why not?" and "What would you suggest I change?" he simply waves his hands at the painting and mutters something incoherently.  Then turns and walks away.

So I'm left in this quandry: I like the image very much, but know that something in the painting should be changed to make it even better.  And that the basic image of me is a good one and reflects well on me -- even if the folks around me don't agree.  So do I change/crop the image and possibly get it wrong and spoil the validity of the image that I see or do I look for someone who would be willing to make a firm suggestion that I could either accept and implement OR simply thank that person and continue looking for someone else? 

Bad Dream 149

I believe I've found a pattern in my recent dreaming that ties into my Blood Pressure Issues.  (FYI, my BP has bounced between the 150's and the 120's -- with the balance of the readings being in the middle to high end of that range.  I'm currently taking five different medications, none of which seem to be pulling the BP down...)

A couple of recent dreams have found me walking about in the downtown area of a city, looking at tall buildings that don't appear to have any signage.  There's nothing that feels sinister about this, but nothing that helps me find any recognizable places.  Dream #148 typifies this.

In this morning's dream, I am a passenger in a car with two delightful friends -- Li;sa and Gus -- and we're driving to some event which is probably musical.  It's mid-morning.  

I remember that I have an important appointment at a place in pretty much the opposite direction of how we're travelling.  The appointment is either at 10:00 this morning or 2:00 this afternoon -- I can't recall which.  I mention this to Gus and Li;sa and -- understandably -- Gus is a bit peeved.  Why didn't I tell him before we left?  Can't you remember or figure out whether it's 2:00 or 10:00?  We could be back in time for 2:00 PM but not 10:00 AM...

What these dreams have in common is "Lost."  Lost directions -- physical.  Lost directions -- personal.  Lost time.  

I feel that I've entered a new phase of life with plenty of opportunities and no sense of direction.  I've pretty much cut off connection to the Meeting and the School Board.  I'm still swimming in cardboard boxes and it doesn't seem to matter how much stuff I give away or throw away, there's still far too much stuff.  And Deb's condition -- her hearing, her mental capacities -- what's really going on there?  What does the future hold for her?  And what will I need to do to hold up my end of things?

Anxiety?  Oh yes.  Reflected in BP?  I think so.  Good answers?  Not forthcoming.

I'm starting a search for a talk therapist -- trying to straighten out what's really wrong and what I can do about it.  

Wish me luck.

Bad Dream 148 -- In Baltimore with Dad

In my dream, I'm in Baltimore with my Dad.  He has some kind of appointment downtown -- but I don't know what it's about.  Further, it seems that my presence at the appointment is not necessary and may, in fact, be prohibited by the subject of the meeting.  All I know is that he will be going over "there" and I will be free to wander around the city.  Unlike the last several meetings where I went someplace with Dad, I'm not concerned about his welfare or ability to navigate the city.

So I'm free to roam around Baltimore wherever I wish.  I wander around the downtown part of the city -- lots of tall buildings, most of which look a lot alike.  (In my dream as was the case when I lived in Maryland, I didn't know the city all that well.  I knew a few landmarks, but that was about it.)

I sense that I've lost track of time and that Dad's appointment -- whatever and wherever it was -- might well be over.  And it then strikes me that we didn't set up a rendezvous location or a time by which we could get back together.  It's not given to me in the dream that Dad has the car keys, but I do know that I won't be able to get home until and unless I link up with him in downtown Baltimore.  And I don't know when or where that could take place.  

I continue to wander from block to block, hoping that I would recognize something that would help me get my bearings -- and from that possibly figure out where Dad might be.  And I have no luck with any of that. 

I'm starting to feel hungry and decide that getting something to eat might somehow stabilize the situation.  At least getting food might help me think more clearly.  I wander into the ground floor of a large office building that has a coffee shop sort of place.  But the only things they have to eat are sweet pastries -- a nice array of them, but not a solid source of protein.  

I look through the glass display case and pick out the pastry that looks least lethal and ask for one and pay for it.  The lady behind the counter walks to the back of the shop to retrieve my order and comes back to the front with a plate carrying two or three pastries that look nothing like what I ordered.  I'm cheesed off at her and the store in general, but I'm more concerned about finding Dad than I am about getting my pastry order squared away.  If I can't link up with him, I have no idea how I will get home.  I decide to keep the pastries she handed me along with the nice-looking plate on which they were served.  (I'm sure she expected to get the plate back so she could wash it and reuse it.  But I will keep the plate to "punish" her.  Get even.)

I turn to leave the shop, but as I walk towards the door, Dad walks in.  And he looks terrific.  He's got this "movie star" glow about him, and he looks like he probably looked when he was 40 years old or thereabouts.

Needless to say, I'm delighted and relieved to see him, but he's taking it all in stride and walking past me as if he's got a task to do before he greets me.  

I wake up.

Bad Dream 147: A Couple of Oddities

 By this time, my Dream Analysis Procedure is pretty much routine: scribble a few notes when I awake from the dream, go back to sleep, get up and power up my Blogspot and write out what I wrote and what I remember and whatever elaborations seem appropriate.  But recently, there were two unrelated(?) dream segments that didn't fit this standard pattern.

SNAP!

(I had made arrangements to meet my sister in Havre de Grace at 8:00 one morning.  And given the time it takes to get fully awake, dressed, fed, car packed, and drive to HdG, I set an alarm the night before to 4:00.  It seemed a bit early, but I wanted to be in HdG early to do a bit of birding. This is the dream I had that next morning.)

In my dream, I am standing in front of a four-burner gas stove that has the two burners on the left lit.  No pots, pans, or skillets there, mind you, just the nice blue flame.  

I go to light a third burner -- the one in the back on the right -- by turning on the gas and listening for the "tik/tik/tik" of the igniter.  As sometimes happens, the burner didn't "catch" immediately, but this time, it seemed unusually long before igniting.  I could hear the gas hissing, but no flame.  

Just as I started to get concerned about too much un-ignited gas in the room, I heard a loud SNAP!! and saw a bright yellow flame roughly 10 inches above the burner tapering slightly at the top and bottom.  Flame maybe 15 or 17 inches tall.  Those two sensations woke me up immediately -- not just groggy awake but wide awake just like that.  

I looked at my bedside clock, which read 3:57AM -- three minutes before the alarm was set to go off.  This allowed me to cancel the 4:00AM alarm, so that Deb didn't have to be awakened by the loud alarm.  

How thoughtful!

Swallowing Screws  

I'm writing up this little part of a larger dream because it's all I can remember AND that because I'm pretty sure that it's been an element of a number of other dreams I've had recently.  

In the course of other things happening in the dream (which, as mentioned above, I don't recall -- but the dream was rather busy and vivid as many of my recent dreams have been), I find that I have several wood screws in the palm of my hand.  Maybe 3 or 4.  They're all identical, all shiny as if they just came from the hardware store.  I estimate they were #10 screws at roughly 1-1/4 inches long.  

Without thinking much about it, I pop one or two into my mouth and swallow them.  This activity doesn't interrupt the flow of the rest of the dream.  No one else in the dream notices what I'm doing.  There is no pain or any discomfort resulting from this activity.  Shortly after this, I begin to wonder what those screws will do to my interior.  I think about my esophagus, my stomach, and my intestines.  Then, knowing that my body won't digest the screws, I think a little farther along in the digestive process...  It occurs to me that the screws might well do serious damage to some soft tissue along the digestive way.  But it's more an academic concern than a concern for my health.  I think that I may have done this before, and that I might be building up a supply of wood screws in my stomach.

As mentioned above, I feel that this interlude in the middle of a dream is something that has happened to me before in several other dreams.  

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.