Tuesday, May 12, 2009

These Dreams

I had a conversation with a couple of friends today about dreams.  I find dreams so fascinating!  I love hearing about other people's, and I love to recount mine.  I remember a ton of them, I suppose because I'm such a light sleeper.  At least something good comes out of a poor night's sleep, right?

Shortly after this conversation, the boys and I were in the car on the way home and I asked Laurence if he ever has dreams.  He said he does and I asked if they are ever funny.  He said some are scary and some are funny.  He categorized dreams like this:  medium scary, really scary, medium funny, and really funny.  "Really funny ones are the best, because they're laughable!" he said -- yep, he really used "laughable."  A kid after my own heart.

My dreams are generally funny.  But I do have the occasional medium scary dream, many of which have a recurring theme.  But two night ago there was one I'd even classify as really scary.  I'll spare you the details and hope that the theme does not pop up again any time soon.

I find recurring dreams to be some of the most interesting, yet extremely annoying.  Up until a few years ago, I dreamed frequently of trying to find my classroom and not succeeding until class was almost over.  I struggled with that one for years, but I guess now, in my mid-30's, I've finally outgrown that fear.  I've moved on to bathrooms.  This is a pretty common theme from what I've read, but it doesn't make my own dreams any easier to take.  (Remember my last post about trying to find some humor?  The same would apply here.)  Let's just say that in my dreams when I gotta go, and I have to choose between a completely filthy private bathroom or a clean yet doorless and very public one, I choose to wake up. 

But as Laurence so expertly stated, the laughable dreams are the best.  I've had many of them over the years, but I have one particular favorite.  It was during the time that I worked in a nursing home, some 14 years ago now.  There was a female resident whom I did not care for.  She was a crabby old curmudgeon in the truest sense of the word.  She was demanding, impatient, rude to the other residents, and expected us to be at her beckon call; she tested my patience every day.  Anyway, in my dream a guy I worked with was coming out of a building and stepped out the door onto a landing at the top of an accessible ramp, holding a tupperware-like container.  Just your standard container, maybe 10x10x5 or so -- perfect for holding cupcakes or some other very edible treat.  "Oh!  What's in there?" I asked, grabbing for the container.  "Careful!" he said, but let me take it.  I started to open it to take a peek and he said, "Don't open it!  Seriously, don't!"  He was making this too much fun.  Of course I opened it, and out pops the woman, full-sized, wheelchair and all.  Miraculously she landed on her wheels and went safely rolling down the ramp.  "How did you get her in there?" I asked, trying to hold back my laughter, but he just shrugged his shoulders, smiled...and then I woke up.  In real life, she lived another year or so and continued to challenge me every day.  Sadly, that dream is by far my fondest memory of her.  Thanks for the laugh, JP...may you forever rest in peace in your Tupperware container.

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