Happy Opening Day! Or, if you’re
non-denominational in this regard, Happy Tuesday. Whichever works
best for you.
Occasionally, I write in here about
bizarre dreams I’ve had (or, like a few weeks ago, strange things
that wake me up in the middle of the night). I’m sure these things
open a window into my (very unusual) psyche and give you an idea of
what it’s like being me. Well, I’ve had pretty much the same
dream a couple of times over the past few weeks, and I have no idea
what it means.
Aside, perhaps, from the fact that I
have a very unusual psyche.
Here’s the dream in a nutshell. I
have, for some reason, gone back to college, usually in a city
different than Marquette. I’m not really sure why I’ve gone back
to college, but I have, and in doing so I’ve taken a full load of
classes. The only problem is that I, in my dream, only end up going
to one or two of the classes. The other classes I just blow off,
even though I know (in my dream) that I’m paying good money for
them and that I’ve moved away for the chance to take them. I also
know (in my dream) that I’ve had a dream like this before and that
my usual standard operating procedure is to blow off a class or two.
So basically I’m dreaming about a dream that I know I’ve dreamt,
a dream that didn’t make sense the first time I had it and still
doesn’t make sense in any subsequent versions of it.
See? Unusual psyche.
I think there are two things at play in
this dream, the first being the premise that I would move away to go
to college and yet attend only half of my classes. That doesn’t
make sense to me; after all, it’s certainly nothing I would ever do
in real life. If I ever was gonna go back to college (and especially
move away to do it) I’m sure I’d wanna get it done as quickly as
possible and as well as possible. I mean, if you’re gonna go back
to college, go back to college. Yet there must be something in my
brain that made me dream this dream the first time. I have no idea
if it’s standard performance anxiety material or if there’s some
kind of deeper meaning to it, but I must’ve had the dream (the
first time) for some particular reason.
I just don’t know what that reason
was.
The second thing in play is the fact
that I’ve had the dreams multiple times, and that in those repeat
airings I know I’m dreaming, I know I’ve had this dream before,
and I know my actions won’t have any real world consequences
because, well, it’s just a dream. And I don’t get it. I know
that as you get older your dreams become more literal, they become
more grounded in reality and your everyday life, but I had no idea
that you also become more self-aware about whether you’re dreaming
or not. I don’t know if this is something everyone experiences or
if I’m starting to mutate into something just a little different
than the norm, but it seems weird to dream about having dreams, and
to know that you’re dreaming.
I’m sure if I had a shrink she could
tell me what all this means, and I am curious, but I don’t know if
I’m curious enough to pay $200 an hour to find out the answer. All
I know is that if I dream about going back to college and then not
going to any of my classes again, there’s a part of my brain that
will tell me my dream is just a dream. And that, in the end, it
really doesn’t matter if I go to that class my dream wants me to
skip.
*****
Before I go I do have to pass along
major congrats to my brother Marc and the love of his life Tiffanie,
who became parents yesterday of what they're describing as their
“Supermoon” baby, Abel James Koski. Welcome to the planet, Abel.
Uncle Jimmy looks forward to seeing you!
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