My dream

February 5, 2008 at 4:18 pm 8 comments

“Was high school really that bad?” S asked this morning.  It really wasn’t, but when I wake up tense and when my jaw hurts from grinding my teeth all night in my sleep, usually I dreamt of high school.  I have reoccuring dreams about math class.  I can’t find the right room, or I don’t have a pencil, or at the graduation ceremony, I realize I did not attend math classes for four years.    


It was the first day of school.  I had to get my three daughters situated in their classes before finding my own.  In the dream, I was an adult, married, with children, only I couldn’t find my ninth grade class.  After the kids were squared away, I realized that I didn’t have my schedule.

Remember the first day of school?  You go to the office and stand in line for your schedule and locker assignment.  Then you find your locker, pray that it will open with the four digit code, search for a pencil and a notebook, all the while scoping out who’s locker is next to yours.  I’ve had dreams where I am trying to get my locker open all night long.

Last night, at the age of 32 (almost 33-yikes!) I stood in the office of my Alma madder for forty minutes waiting for my schedule.  I went to the office at lunch time.  I have no idea what I did in the morning, although at some point I was crying because Polly had taken a few steps (hey, it’s a dream).

The office ladies were nice and excited to see me again after so many years.  They asked about my parents, how my brother was doing in California, how I was doing after the birth of my third daughter.  I kept up the polite banter, smiling and nodding, being the well brought up girl that I am.  No one found it odd that I was back in High School after fifteen years. 

Ten minutes passed. 

I asked when lunch period was over.  “At 12:15,” they said.  I looked at the clock.  I had a half hour.  Just enough time to get my schedule, grab a sandwich and check in on the kids before getting to class.

Fast forward:  twenty minutes later I was still waiting for my schedule in the office.  The ladies were still very polite.  At one point Mrs. Farm’s husband showed up and gave her a back rub, even though he taught fifth grade in another building.  I realized there wasn’t going to be a sandwich.  I was not going to check on the kids.  I started to get angry.  Now there was  one woman in the office, typing away, intently, on the computer. 

“Excuse me, I don’t mean to intrude, but I really need my schedule.” 

“Oh, yes, Gillian, it’s right here…just…one…minute.”

I went ballistic.  I screamed about needing my fricking (oh, yes, I said fricking) schedule, about being hungry, about how my children were not going to see their mother for the rest of the day, and quite possibly, I might have missed another huge milestone in my daughter’s development.  And she has special needs!

“Gillie, wake up, it’s seven o’clock,” S tapped my shoulder.  “I’m up,” I squawked. 

Today’s gonna be a great day.


Entry filed under: Dreams, high school.

I cannot find my white, terry cloth bathrobe Tidbits

8 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Emily  |  February 5, 2008 at 4:42 pm

    Oh, wow. I had no idea that someone else had almost exactly the same dreams I do. THat is unbelievable.

    The biggest difference is that in my dreams I still have the higher degrees I have now, but for some reason I have to go back and do high school.

  • 2. joannmski  |  February 5, 2008 at 7:10 pm

    Oh yes. What are we supposed to do? Where are we supposed to go? Why won’t we get our schedule, at this age? Life would be so much easier if we just had a schedule and could figure out what we were supposed to do.

  • 3. Deanne  |  February 5, 2008 at 8:23 pm

    Oh good, I’m not the only one who has reoccurring dreams about high school! Mine are usually about not being able to open my locker (I had the same locker for 4 years I should remember my combination, right?). 🙂

  • 4. ukrainemom  |  February 5, 2008 at 9:33 pm

    You guys are funny! I am so glad I am not the only one. Now…off to find my mouth guard.

  • 5. theramblinghousewife  |  February 6, 2008 at 1:31 am

    I never have dreams about high school!! Now after reading all the comments .. .I’m wondering what is wrong with me??!!! 🙂

  • 6. Heartsong  |  February 6, 2008 at 2:13 pm

    My recurring anxiety dream is of being in my college choir, the bus is about to leave for tour, and I’m running down the large hill from my dorm, with my suitcase and pillow, screaming “Wait! Wait for me!” Our professor put the fear of God in us about ever being late. If we missed the bus, we were supposed to get in our own car and arrive at the first stop on tour no matter what. You were completely humiliated if this happened. I never did it, but I dream about it all the time.

    I also dream that I get a college grade report and realize that I was registered for a class that I never attended and therefore failed.

  • 7. michele  |  February 7, 2008 at 4:43 am

    High school was probably worse. 🙂

  • 8. Dad  |  February 8, 2008 at 12:00 am

    Isn’t it amazing what “haunts us”. While I’ve seldom dreamed of my newspaper career, I still dream of cooking in my dad’s restaurant. The most frequent is a night-long ordeal of broiling a hamburger steak that never cooks!
    Not long ago I dreamt I was in the front of a canoe, Ben and Lanie were in the middle (in a tnagle of chowmein noodles) and there was an old Chinese woman in the back seat. she was brandishing a meat clever!
    I was trying to escape her by paddling the canoe with a garbage can lid!
    The shore was just out a reach; a German U-boat pen somewhere in Norway.
    I suspect I had had Chinese food for lunch and then watched some WWII documentary on the “Hitler” channel.

    I have one special dream that I wish I never forget.
    It happened not long after my mother died. I had some guilt that she had died alone (even though it was peaceful and expected). She had been a widow for 12 years and at 85 she was ready to “be with dad”.

    The dream was set at Holland Lake. All of us were at a big bonfire near the beach, singing, laughing, and having a typical “Bayer Bash”.
    I looked back toward the small campfire next to our place and saw mom and dad sitting at the fire; talking quietly in the dark, together again, at peace.
    So was I.

    We are looking forward to seeing your bunch soon. L&P Dad


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