July 19, 2005
A New Template and a Crazy Dream
Hey! I'm getting pretty HTML savvy, eh? Finally got a new *ahem* template.
Sweet!
Much thanks to Clarity25, xquzme, and onewetleg for all of their gracious help and input.
I must be stressed. Every time I am, I have a variation of the following dream:
I'm leaving from a place that I've been at for a couple of weeks. The location always changes-either I'm a councilor at a summer camp, or I'm just finishing college, etc. Everyone and everything is all in a rush to get all of their stuff packed up and to get out of wherever we're staying, as the next group of people are due to arrive at any minute.
I always think I've got everything ready, and, in some dreams, I'm totally cocky about it-poking fun at others who aren't, yelling at them to hurry up, etc., and then I always wind up opening some closet, drawer, or door to a room that's got a whole mess of my stuff in it still.
A huge, overstuffed, messy, daunting pile of crap. A pile of crap that has no way in Hades of being removed in less than a day.
And I get this sinking feeling that overwhelms me, as I know that my car is too full to hold anything else. And I know I'm going to have to ask someone for help. And I know that most likely it will be a person I was just a dick to. And I know that the person will give me a load of shit. And I know that that person won't be willing to help me and I'll have to grovel.
At this point in the dream, I have that little alert that goes off in your head when you know that you're either having a recurring dream or that something is very familiar. I can NEVER wake myself up at this point. For some reason, my penance for being stressed out is to have to live out the hellish nightmare that is this dream and organize, pack, and clean all this stuff in record time while kissing other people's butt when all I want to do is scream and hide underneath something.
I call this lovely gem "The Packing Dream". Of course, it has to be capitalized, even in my imagination in order to give it the proper significance. I've had this dream at least 20 times or so, and I think it stems from when I was finishing up college, had to study for finals, and figure out how to get home all within the same week. What bugs me the most is that I can never stop it, and must always finish the damn thing out. I know how it ends-I never quite get it all done before the next round of people show up, I throw massive amounts of crap away while thinking that I'll be missing it soon, and I make a bunch of people angry.
Each time I have this dream, it usually occurs during a stressful period in my life.
Here's the big problem:
I didn't realize that I was experiencing stress about anything! Now what?
I used to have this other dream back when I was taking my finals. I was on Jeopardy and good ole Alex Trabeck was asking me all sorts of inane questions (I was a liberal arts major) that I couldn't come up with the answers to. Or vice versa, since it IS Jeopardy after all. Every time I'd get an answer wrong, he'd take out a member of my family and shoot them in the head. Of course, this was bumming me out a little, so I started working really hard at getting all of the last ones right. Even though I was getting them correct, he was saying things like "So, clipchick, I'm pretty much going to kill the rest of your family, since the ones remaining will be SOOOOOO pissed off at you for killing everyone else. What's the big deal?"
Thank goodness I only had that dream once!
Well, had a big weekend-extracted 32 pounds of honey in over 100 degree weather from my hive, and then went over to my Dad's and extracted another 32 pounds. For you conversion freaks, that's almost 4 gallons each. I took pictures like a mad dog until my camera ran out of batteries. Now all I have to do is figure out how to hook up the camera, and I've got another great entry coming soon!
Any input on what my crazy kooky dream may be trying to say would be appreciated. It doesn't even matter if you're right or wrong, but I could sure use a good laugh!
Toodles!
clipchick at 6:42 p.m.
All thoughts, ideas, and musings are � Clipchick. Please don't snipe my stuff!
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