Lost, so lost.

Last night’s dream came awfully close to being a nightmare. It was another of the nasty, UPS-themed dreams that have been haunting me for years.

In my dream…

…I was a UPS driver trying to return to work after an extended absence. While I was gone, the DIADs (those little computer=clipboards the drivers use to collect signatures, to input data, etc.) had changed radically from the one I learned to use. I was expected to pick up the new model and immediately use it with the same level of efficiency as all the other drivers. But I’d received no training with the new model and I wasn’t going to be given any training.

When I asked for some instruction I was just pointed to a stack of packages and told, “Scan them, load them into a package car, and get the hell out of here and deliver them!”

In terms of knowing how to what I was told to do, I could not have been more lost.

Frank Burns, and spies in the bookstore

Last night’s dream was another strange one. It had two, very distinct parts.

In my dream…

The first person I encountered was Frank Burns, the goofy Army Doctor from the movie and TV series Mash. We weren’t in the jungles of Korea, however. This dream, both parts, were set in the loosely imagined, central downtown district of Bloomington, IN, as it sort of was approximately 25 years ago.

Someone had played a practical joke on Frank and he was running in a state of panic into Bloomington’s Monroe County Courthouse. This Courthouse in my dream was larger than the real one, but the layout of the rooms was essentially unchanged.

The Courthouse was closing for the day and most of the lights had been turned off and the offices were empty. I don’t know why I was following Frank, or if I was involved in the joke, but I was keeping a discreet distance and laughing almost as loudly as Frank was screaming.

Frank ran into one of the main office areas and the door locked behind him. He heard the click of the lock and became even more upset. He thought his only way out was to climb up to the transom above the door and squeeze himself out through that. He tried and tried but couldn’t get himself coordinated enough to pull it off. He kept falling down and screaming, over and over again.

Though the Courthouse was technically closed, I had no difficulty walking out through one of the main doors and into the next part of my dream.

There was a bookstore across the street from the Courthouse and that’s where I went. With extra money in my pocket, I decided to pick up some leisure reading.

Inside the store were counters, long tables, and shelves of books, as I expected to find. But there were also a lot of shady-looking men dressed in long, black coats, most wearing sun glasses, all wearing hats, trying to be very sneaky (but being very obvious) about watching what particular books the customers were browsing and buying. They reminded me of characters one could find in the old Spy vs. Spy comic strips found in Mad Magazine years ago.

Two of them followed me like shadows as I made my selection and took it up to the cash register. While the clerck was ringing up my purchase I picked up the book and started leafing through it. One of my two “shadows” was standing so close to me I could almost feel him. When I turned around to look for the other guy who had been following me,…

…I was looking at the digital readout of the clock by my bed. I was waking up.

A rat, two mice, and a plan

Last night’s dream was a strange one. And having it was about the only good thing I can say about last night’s extremely uncomfortable sleep.

In my dream…

…I had come into possession of a building. It wasn’t made clear exactly what this building was, nor how I came to own it. It was pretty good-sized though, and filled with clutter that I had to dispose of responsibly.

The most troublesome “thing” in the building was what appeared to be a combination cage and microwave oven. It was partitioned so as to contain two interior spaces of equal dimensions. In one of these spaces were two, frisky white mice; and in the other was a large, sickly, foul-smelling, evil-looking white rat.

What the blazes was I going to do with these animals? How could I get rid of them? I had to come up with a plan. The contents of the building were inventoried and I had to make a detailed accounting of how I sold, stored, or scrapped each item. And I was being closely monitored, so I had to be careful about everything. I had to come up with a good plan.

It was while I was weighing my options regarding the rat and the mice that…

…I woke up.

On the work of dreaming

My dreams continue vividly and almost nightly. Unfortunately, they continue to be primarily about private folks whom I know in real life. Therefore they can’t pass through my self-imposed filter regarding subjects I will not share in this public journal. It is assumed this stretch of “dreams that must remain private” will pass (it always does) and regular, wacky dreaming will return.

In my reading the other night, I did come across something you might find interesting.

There are those who contend that almost everyone dreams almost every night, even if those dreams are unremembered. And there are those who contend that this dreaming is important work. I agree with both of these contentions by the way.

The following paragraph from Neal Stephenson’s Anathem addresses this matter:

My mind was about half sorted out. Many of the new ideas, events, people, and images that had come at me from every direction the day before had been squared away, like so many leaves rolled up and thrust into pigeonholes. Not that anything had really been settled. All of the questions that had been open when my head had hit the pillow were still pending. But in the intervening hours, my brain had been changing to fit the new shape of my world. I guess that’s why we can’t do anything else when we’re sleeping; it’s when we work hardest.

Familiar place, strange people, and vice versa

Even though I’ve not been able to post about them, this has been a very dream-filled week. A filter I’ve imposed on myself here is that I’ll not share any dreams that center on illegal or immoral activity. Most of this week’s dreams have not been able to pass through that filter.

The last two nights, however, have included two I can share.

Familiar place, strange people.
In Tuesday night’s dream I was a relatively young man working an entry-level job as a “gopher” for a law firm that was located in large, modern building to which I used to deliver when I was a UPS-man in Bloomington IN.

A main theme of this dream was how my situation improved when I decided to start wearing a tie to work. Women working in the building who had ignored me before, suddenly began to notice me, to smile and want to talk with me. One of the partners in the law firm pulled me aside and asked me if I’d like to try working on some more complicated assignments for him.

My social life and my professional life was definitely on the upswing, and the only reason was that I had decided to start wearing a tie, had decided to present myself more professionally.

Even though the setting of this dream was a place with which I was once very familiar, none of the folks with whom I interacted reminded me of anyone I used to know or know now.

Familiar people, strange place.
Wednesday night’s dream found me in a strange place, but dealing with people whom I know, and who know me well.

I was attempting to attend an event held at some large, members-only facility. It was required that I show two separate pieces of picture i.d. to enter. Unfortunately, even though I had two pieces, I could only find one of them when I presented myself at the gate. And the folks wouldn’t let me in.

Even though the woman in charge of admissions knew me personally, she wouldn’t let me in without the required credentials. She knew I had them, but I could only find one. And that wasn’t good enough for her.

I went back to a “security” table and tried to get some support, but it was no use. Even though one of the officers at the table knew me personally, and knew I had the necessary credentials, he wouldn’t allow me to enter if I couldn’t present them.

Darn! It was never made clear in the dream just what the facility was that I was trying to enter, or what kind of event was being held there. But I was so frustrated at not being able to find both my picture i.d.s, and at not being able to pass through the gate.