In the Bag

For the past several years, I have had a recurring dream. It's a fairly common one - that one where you're back in school and you don't know your schedule, then you realize there are some classes you haven't shown up to all year. Not because you were blowing them off but because there just didn't seem to be time and you always missed them for one reason or another. But mostly, you're just lost. Like you're just walking around the halls with this nagging feeling you're supposed to be doing something but this terrible despair because you don't know the details.

I had one for awhile where I had to repeat fifth grade. I spent most of my fifth grade year MIA for various reasons, but I think I finally resolved that dream. This lack of schedule dream, though...it has plagued me.

The last time I had it, just before I woke up, I inserted myself into my own dream with partially conscious thinking and willed myself to the main office. The secretary was kind as I explained that I thought I'd missed an entire semester or two of classes but was really hoping to kick it in and manage to make up the work. She printed me a copy of my schedule, and I was staring at it with a dumbfounded "I'm enrolled in this?" look when I woke up.

Last night, I had that dream again. It's always the same school - not a real school but this massive monstrosity of backward hallways and slow elevators and about 7 stories of high school. Yes, it's massive. And last night, as always, I was late for some class, but I didn't know what class, whether I had the right books, where the class met. I was already preparing to introduce myself to the teacher and explain why I hadn't been around for the better part of the whole shebang. But really, I didn't know where I was going. Nobody I asked did, either. They just shrugged and kind of looked at me while I stood at the elevator that was ignoring my call button request and skipping right past floor six every time.

Then, I looked in my bag. I don't know why, but I did. And there it was - the schedule I'd forced myself to get in my last dream.

And suddenly, it was ok. I knew where I was going. I knew I hadn't been there and would likely lag behind considerably. I knew if I was going to get the credit, I had to really bust my behind to catch up. But it was ok. Everything was ok. This sense of peace came over me; I finally knew where I was supposed to be going. I finally had a direction.

So I did the only logical thing possible - I trekked to the cafeteria where, with a few loved ones I felt like I hadn't talked to in ages, though I knew we had been around each other quite often, had lunch. Piled my plate high full of delicious food, food that I wanted to eat without any reservation. Piles of the biggest bacon you've ever seen in your life, heaping spoonfuls of pasta salad, fresh fruit, shredded salad, cheeses and meats, and a whole rack of cake. Yes, the cake came in racks! And I simply enjoyed the meal.

I woke up full, looking at my schedule again. But this time, not worried about things. Content. Just ok.

I know there is more meaning behind this dream. And don't think me freaky - I'm not one of those types that thinks every dream is revolutionary and meaningful; some are just weird and crazy and the combination of being too tired and too weird and watching too much television. But every once in awhile, my dreams put better words to my heart that my awake mind can. And if, in the process, I conquer another recurring dream, then all the better.

Now, onto that one where your teeth just crumble to dust and fall out.... THAT one's creepy.