I’ve been tweeting my nightly excursions in slumber land lately, and people seem fascinated that I remember my dreams. I can recall dreams back to when I was around 5 years old, and usually I remember 2-3 dreams a week, sometimes more. Since people seem interested, I thought I’d post them here.
Last night I dreamt I was at college, sort of. I was away somewhere. It was Autumn, and time to head back home for a break. I lived in an apartment, or in part of a house with some other people. Everyone else in the building had already gone off, a few at a time, and it was just me in this big lonely place with one or two other people. We wandered around, trying to get our stuff packed so we could get out the door. For some reason, the place looked like a slew of office cubicles, and I realized I didn’t just live there, I also worked there too, which I hated because that meant I could never get away from this lousy office job I had. I was pregnant, and I really wanted to get in my car and head out so I could meet up with Hubster, but in the course of wandering through the cubicles, I came out into the lobby of a hotel where they were serving a continental breakfast. The place looked an awful lot like the Embassy in Chicago where we stayed this summer. Hubster was there, talking to some people that I was supposed to impress. Maybe they were friends of his from work. But all I could think about was how I had to use the restroom, so I excused myself and went to find one. There was a men’s room on the lobby floor, but not a ladies (apparently it was still under construction or being renovated), and I had to follow these detour signs that led to the ladies room up on the fourth floor. But when I got there, that ladies’ room was cordoned off too, for repairs, and more detour signs led to an elevator that I knew went 27 floors up. The elevator was one of those glass jobs that ran along the outside of the building, so you could see yourself shooting up into the stratosphere, and there was no way in hell I was getting on that thing and going up that high. I had this terrible fear that it wouldn’t be safe, and that maybe I’d somehow fall out of the elevator and plunge to my death. So I abandoned my quest for the ladies’ room, and headed back down to the lobby, where I had to explain the whole ladies’ room problem to everyone there.
And then I woke up.
For some reason, being at college while living in an apartment figures into a lot of my dreams. This is odd, because I lived in the dorms all four years I was at Tech. I didn’t get an apartment until I went for my MS at Radford.
Toilets, and the inability to find one or get into one, also show up a lot in my dreams. I have no idea why.