A Series of Unfortunate Dreams, or Perhaps a Series of Nightly Takes of Insanity

As life would have it, life has been busy and stressful as of late...so I preface this post by saying that perhaps my mind its screaming for a rest, a day off, a night with nothing but me and my devices of thought and pen. Okay...maybe I'm just fried from working so much, writing more, and smashing my head against my computer while grading.

Earlier this week I dreamed that scoops of ice cream–– vanilla, of course––fell from the sky, gently exploding into smaller balls as they fell. Through the course of this scene I could see The Empire State Building upload and The Chrysler Building. I could see the cracks of concrete and flecks of dirt on the window panes. Throughout this scene of a cerebral slow– timed tango, I said those buildings are "my Manhattan." Then, as the best chaos of dreams does...I awoke to lie in bed in a state of confusion half between slumber and consciousness with a literal dream memory seeping around the corners. At thirteen, or so, I awoke in my cousin's bed with remnants of a similar dream. When we crawled down the stairs the next morning, her mother told us that we should go make a snowman...it had snowed that night, though my dreams had a key difference. At thirteen I said, "that's NYC."  At thirteen, huddled against the Indiana winter night, I doubt that I really knew where NYC is or what it means to live here. Of course, there was no snow this week...that was last week in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.

At another nightly attempt of  cerebral calm I awoke in a panic to having dreamt of opening my inbox to find every single email from every student I have ever had. My inbox email count was in six figures...I began to shudder, shake, and seize. As I literally began to feel the room spin and my empty stomach come to my throat I was saved by the screams of "Stop shooting at me!" I was literally saved by the bell...my husband's obnoxious alarm of Ozzie.what a way to awake...in a full on panic attack freeing how in the hell I would I ever get through all of that. A shitty way to wake up. Indeed.

Then I had the dream that I spilled Red Bull on my bed sheets because the dog cuddled in and don't tell me were the can was. Oh wait...that one wasn't' a dream.