Dream last night: one of those packing, getting ready to move dreams combined with one of those taking tests, attending last classes dreams (but something is always missing, like, I hadn’t been attending class for months or I can’t find the room.) Or, in this case, I had forgotten to grab paper to write on, on the way to class. Passing by a student lounge, there was a shelf where students had left abandonded notebooks and I grabbed one. At first, it seemed to have a lot of empty pages on it, but the longer I leafed through it, the more I realized that every single page had writing or math equations on it. So, I had to turn around and go back to the lounge for another notebook. By then, I was running ten minutes late to the class. The next few notebooks also yielded the same results: endless sheets of paper that seemed to be completely blank on both sides but had math or notes on them upon closer examination. There was the distinct feeling I wasn’t going to graduate from this school unless I made it to the class to take notes.
Then, the dream shifted to moving out of my dormroom. Apparently, MB, a bully from middle school, was one of my roommates. Like most moving out dreams, I had a ton of stuff I needed to get cleaned up, but I was hanging on to things like a baby gate that had been used to keep a cat out. It was broken in the same way a baby gate in real life had once been broken by my first dog I had in Austin, and it was evident that I was hanging on to it in hopes of just super gluing a piece back together. But soon, I could see that trying to repair it was going to be utterly futile. Finally, I gave in to the fact that I would have to throw it out. Similarly, I came upon all kinds of food and stuff that I was hanging onto, but some of it was MB’s, and I couldn’t tell the difference to know what to get rid of.
Yesterday, I made an oversized, impulse kind of purchase (well, I’d been looking at it for several months, but it was still more money spent than I really should have spent) on a Gretsch hollowbody guitar and a Peavey modeling amp. Since my wife has had a friend in town this weekend, and I’ve needed to watch my son, I’ve had little precious time to play it. My son seems to know when I am utterly absorbed in something else, too. I can sit here and write this, and look over at him and say things to him, but the guitar seems to be (to him) a complete attention stealer. I am okay with this since I am not a teenager anymore, and I hope to have this guitar for the rest of my life and fool around on it for years to come.
I’m probably having more dreams that I remember right now since I don’t have any work problems to mull over/worry about. The pressing issues of finances and needed house repairs are not especially pressing to me, since these will be mitigated by the new salary.
Then, of course, there are all of the usual existential worries. Will I actually succeed at this new job enough to keep it? Will the company perceive the need for my services even if I am succeeding at the new job? Will Trump do something stupid to wreck the economy? Will the economy take a nose dive in spite of Trump, not because of him? Will I die abruptly of X, Y, Z? But, all of these worries are deep and enormous, and tend not to ever really rise up into my consciousness, just because I can’t do much about them. So, I’m left with trying to parse out my dreams, which are in theory indicators of near-deep mental crap that needs cleaning.