the epitome of anxiety dreams

A friend commented yesterday that my currently blemish-covered face indicates that I’m extraordinarily stressed out.

I replied, “No, no, I’m not stressed really about anything right now. Everything is going well.”

And then I have this David Lynch-style dream. It begins with B and the kids driving me to school in an old Suburban pulling a car trailer. He cannot find a place to park, so he ends up dropping me off. I start my day in a swimming lesson, but find that I have no towel at the end so I’m dripping wet as I rush to my next class where I have a final test to take. I realize as I open my folder that I’m missing the requisite 20 copies of my car registration. I rush out of the classroom, in a bathing suit still, dripping wet still, to find B and the truck so I can get the registration and make copies of it before the exam begins. But B is nowhere to be found, so I rush back to my building and begin asking random people if I can borrow their car registration. No one will oblige me. There are huge platesful of holiday cookies and goodies everywhere, and at one point I’m holding and eating from a bucket of Chex on the Pan*. As I’m soliciting car registrations, people dip their hands in my bucket to sample and are disappointed with my holiday snack’s lack of flair. Specific people from my department sneer at the puddle I’m trailing; specific other people shake their heads in disgust at my stupid holiday goody (“She brought PLAIN CEREAL?”).

So I decide to give up completely, and I begin to wander around campus to find B and the kids and the Suburban. I can’t find them anywhere, and so I wander off campus to search and I get LOST. And my suit is not drying out–still dripping wet.

*Chex on the Pan: Corn Chex (often the generic) quickly heated in a little butter and spinkled with garlic powder and celery salt. AKA poor man’s Chex Mix.


One thought on “the epitome of anxiety dreams

  1. A sure sign of stress: folks saying, “Oh, no, I’m handling it just fine!” (I’ve found this also applies to couples, as in, “Gosh, glad we’re not like *that* couple!”)

Comments are closed.