Sunday, June 10, 2007

Sunday, June 10, 2007

In my first dream that I remember, I was coming home from somewhere. Someone else was driving and just dropped me off. I noticed as we were getting closer to my house that there was work being done there. I didn’t ask anyone to do any work there, so I wasn’t sure what was going on and was a little nervous. Eventually, I could see that people were trimming trees. (I desperately need to have a couple/few trees taken down.) I was still concerned as to why these men were there since I hadn’t hired them to do the work.

I entered my home through the front door, which I never do, just to avoid them. I was watching television and playing with my cats, Lily and Peek-a-Boo (who are now dead). At one point, there was a small monkey there, sitting on Lily’s back. It scared me to see the monkey, so I screamed out, which scared the cats. I opened the front door to try to get the monkey to leave. It did, but Lily followed it.

At some point, but I’m not sure when, I heard the men from the tree-trimming IN my house. As I tip-toed into the kitchen to look for them, I was startled to see one of them walking down the hall. As I jumped, he whispered that it was okay, that he’d just be a minute. I was again nervous, but no longer frightened.

Eventually, I was out back with the man in charge of the tree-trimming. He introduced himself as being related to some Ackerman, who was on the town board. He said that Mr. Ackerman needed all trees in town trimmed by a certain time and had these guys start the work at my house. (My neighbor’s daughter happens to be married to an Ackerman who is on the local School Board.) As I was talking with this man, I noticed that the men working on my trees had built a very large cement block structure to surround my back yard. The walls started at the edge of my house, went to the end of my yard, were as high as the trees, and had a ceiling. It was obvious that they used those large cement blocks, but they were painted black. I got the impression that the walls allowed them to keep all falling limbs within my yard, preventing injury to others.

At one point, one of the men was at the top of one of the walls, chipping away at the ceiling to get it to come down a few blocks at a time… not chunks of it, but orderly, literally cutting away a few blocks at a time. But instead, a huge part of the ceiling was coming down and I imagined it falling on one of the men on the ground. I covered my head and cried out. Then assuming that the man on the ground had been crushed and killed, I sobbed for him. But the man in charge assured me that everyone was fine. When I looked up, the man that should have been crushed was standing there smiling, saying he was fine. I then started helping the men ‘cut’ the block wall down.

Later in the day, I was at my parents’ home. I was trying to describe the big black, block wall to them. We were in the kitchen. Mom and others I can’t remember seemed completely uninterested. But my dad kept asking me questions trying to picture this big structure. It was like he didn’t believe me and doubted the necessity of this wall. When I thought he finally understood what I was trying to convey, he no longer seemed interested either. In fact, I remember walking out to his truck with him as I was still talking. He started up the truck and drove away as if I wasn’t talking to him at all. When I went back into the kitchen to finish my story to the others, they ignored me too. I was frustrated and hurt, but I sat down and ate this soup that had live gold fish in it.

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

I was attending a soccer match or something. I just remember needing to get from one sideline to the other at an outdoor field. I was running on what could be described as a smaller version of one of those walkways that goes over major highways. It was all metal and wide enough for one to two people. It was only about six to eight feet off the ground, with a handrail on both sides. I believe I was alone on the walkway as I ran along it. There were turns at the corners of the field. I remember being nervous about taking the turns at my running speed and slowed down to be more sure of my footing.

The next thing I remember, I was running on the sidewalks and pavements to my home. I believe I was on my street. I was carrying a four-pack of some beverage in glass bottles. I ended up moving along side a young lady that I didn’t recognize. But we started up a friendly conversation. She said that she was a MK consultant, making money to pay for her son’s hospital bills. Her goal was to make at least $200/week. Her son’s bills were in excess of $14,000. She was completely overwhelmed by how long it would take her to pay those bills.

Eventually, I was in her home, discussing her business with her. One of her kids noticed that one of my bottles was leaking and making a mess all over the floor. I was in the process of cleaning it up when her husband got home. I got the impression that he didn’t like me being there. So, I quickly cleaned up the mess, grabbed my remaining beverages, told the lady to give me a call and I’d help her with ideas for her business, and then I continued running home.

Lots of running in this dream. And people I don’t think I know.

Friday, June 1, 2007

Friday, June 1, 2007

I was standing at the corner of 25th and 17th (I’m guessing one of those was a street and one was an avenue!) with several other people, mostly family. Community East Hospital was just across the street. Some of us were going in the hospital and some of us were going somewhere else. I was somewhat in charge of those of us going somewhere else. We were making arrangements to meet back at this intersection later in the day.

As we were standing there, I noticed a handful of preteen girls walking down the street wearing hats that were crocheted but looked like afros or dreadlocks. I remember thinking, what a cute idea, why hadn't anyone thought about it before. They were done with variegated yarn and were very colorful.

The next thing I know, I’m teaching my seventh graders their last religion class of the year at my parents’ house. Only a few of them showed up. At one point, one of the boys was really getting on my nerves. So, I went to the whiteboard and made his grade a D. He said something about me taking my frustration on the kids who didn’t show up out on him. I realized he was right, but I didn’t change his grade. (Like I even give out grades!)

The next thing I remember, we were running late and I needed to get the kids back to where they were being picked up. I don’t know why they weren’t being picked up at my parents’. And I don’t know how we got there without a vehicle. But we were running from there to my house to get to a vehicle.

While running that way, Erin (my sister) was there and was gloating about getting valedictorian because so many others didn’t show up. I don’t know when Erin got there; it’s not like she was ever part of the class before. But I remember thinking, “I wonder why Erin, a 32 year old woman, is competing with 7th graders for valedictorian and why is she bragging about this feat?”

When we got to my house, we got in the van. Edna’s van. To the best of my knowledge, Edna doesn’t have a van in real life, but that’s not important. We all jump in; I’m in the passenger seat. The van is parked along the side of the road, pointing north. This means that it’s not pointed in the direction of the street where we need to go. And instead of just doing a three-point turn right there, the driver went up the dead-end street to do a u-turn. Before we got to the end cul-de-sac, there was a yellow and red DHL truck pointed right at us. It seemed to be going very fast, but then slammed on the brakes or something because it ended up bouncing on it’s rear wheels with its front end off the ground and spinning around like it was break-dancing. I just remember thinking, “We don’t have time for this. Hurry the heck up!”

Finally we were on our way and got the kids dropped off just a minute or two late. On the way home, my cell phone rang. It was the mother of one of the kids who didn't show up, whose son I taught during my first year of teaching five years ago. She was calling to let me know that she’d have her son there tomorrow night. I very rudely told her that I wouldn’t be there, that the last class was tonight and that it was over, and that I was not going to teach the damn thing again. She was very upset, but I hung up on her.