I don't know if anyone else can relate, but when it comes to recurring dreams, I have quite a repertoire. As a child, the predominant theme was some sort of green witch head that lived in the holes of guitars. And Hello Kitty markers. Any thoughts?
As I grew in age and experiences, new issues came to light. In addition to the wholly awful "math" dreams in which I cannot stop my poor brain from processing mathematical "equations," I acquired the "band sequence" and the "absentee storyline."
In the band vision, I arrive in the instrument locker area of my high school with a sense of impending doom. Not only do I suddenly realize that I cannot remember how to play the clarinet, but I also cannot recall the combination to my padlock to retrieve it. Oh, and guess what? Apparently I have been skipping choir rehearsal all year as well and am probably failing it.
I do have theories into this dream, but I will leave those out at this time.
The next dream takes place on my college campus towards the end of a semester. It happens at the point at which I realize that there is one class on my schedule that I have simply neglected to attend ALL SEMESTER. As I never officially dropped the course, I am likely failing and can kiss the Dean's List goodbye.
Such traumatic experiences, right?
Well, as of last night I think I can add a new one to the list.
In this reverie, I find myself up in my townhouse with my father and my brothers. It is morning and we are all waking up to discover that the place is a MESS. Seriously. My baby brother has painted all over the walls in my bedroom in some hideous pattern and there is junk everywhere. In the closets, cupboards, on the floor. You name it.
All of a sudden, the horrifying truth dawns upon me: I have sold this house. Fear takes over as I realize that the new owners can arrive at any moment, and my stuff is still all over the place and the walls are trashed. This is not the condition it was in for their final walk-through, and I am convinced that the whole deal will now fall through. (Never mind that it is technically already sold.)
When I awoke, I had to tell myself several times before I stepped out of bed that it wasn't real. I sold my house and every room was empty. I double checked the closets twice. There was absolutely no paint on the walls.
Even though I recovered this morning, I have a strong sense that this dream will visit again someday as it carries the same sense of fear, anxiety and panic that the others of this type have exhibited. Perhaps someone trained in the science of dream interpretation could tell me what these scenarios say about me and my personality issues. If you are such a person, please, before offering your two cents, stop and consider whether or not what you have to say will make the dreams stop or if they will just confirm that I am secretly an extremely neurotic person.
Tonight I am hoping for something a little lighter. Maybe some nice, handsome man with an Australian accent. Maybe with ice cream. And a puppy.