Tag: teacher

A Better Dream

While yesterday morning’s dreams upset and depressed me, I found a dream from last night reassuring and energizing. My wife and I were driving in my old Chevy Camaro, a 1968 copper-hued RS with a black vinyl type, black stripes, and a sweet 327.

We were racing down a highway toward a project. The sun was in my eyes, so I constructed a hat with a pole sticking out from it and a small saucer on the end. I’d tilt and turn my head to use the saucer to protect my eyes. Something humorous was written on the saucer and on my hat, subject: beer, but I remember it not. When people read it in the dream, they laughed.

We reached our destination and parked. The project underway involved baking a ton of bread. We were volunteers, working with a local group. Another organization had loaned us their building for the day, a rambling, ramshackle school and industry combo. Built of bricks, following a form follows function straightforward style, inside was a maze of tiled halls and rooms. We found the folks we were working with and began producing bread. It was an odd process of holding small brown balls under a duct until the duct sucked it up. Somewhere/sometime after that, bread was made and delivered elsewhere in the building.

We were put on a break while they checked to see if we’d made our quota of bread. As we stood about and chatted, I spotted smoke coming out of the duct up by the ceiling. I pointed that out, and then flames appeared. A fire extinguisher was brought forward but we were waiting for someone to bring a ladder so we could reach the flames. Meanwhile, the flames were spreading, so I took the fire extinguisher and put out the flames. The guy arrived with the ladder, climbed up and gave it additional precautionary sprays.

We were still waiting for them to tell us we were done but my wife and I were bored and decided to leave. We ran down the halls like children, encountering grade-school children coming in to go to classes. Out into a hot, sunny day, we jumped into the Camaro and took off.

Construction was encountered. Don’t know exactly what was going on, but I kept going at a reduced speed over churned mud. A guy working a machine was met. He would work a little and I would drive a little. I finally reached my turn and pulled off. We were planning to have lunch. Children and cats were running around. I encountered an old teacher of mine. Wearing a red sweater and a skirt, she sat down on a green park bench and invited me to join her. I did, and she started asking me about NFL offensive linemen. I tried changing the subject and then my wife came up and told me we needed to go.

Dream end

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The Silver-gray Cat Dream

First, I was leaving a white building on a bright and sunny day. An older woman, who I know to be a writing instructor, was talking behind me, but addressing me. “I have an older student who is trying to be a writer. He doesn’t have it. He’s not going to succeed.”

I was panicking. I thought she was referring to me. I replied, “Do you tell him?”

“I’ve told him very directly. He doesn’t want to get the message.”

Those words ringing in my ears, I shouted good-bye to her and fled down the street. Two lanes wide or more, it was blocked off, so we could walk straight down the street.

I picked up a silver-gray shorthair cat and her kitten along the way. The cat seemed ill. I decided I would find a house and get her help.

I walked into an apartment building and knocked on a door. When there was no answer, I discovered the door was unlocked and entered. The apartment had an unusual layout, with a set of steps rising to a loft along one wall of a great room, and rooms directly off the great room on the opposite side. The kitchen was up in the loft. A television was on, its volume very high, showing an old television show but in color.

I set the cat down. She was very listless. “What is it? I asked her.

“I need a box,” she replied in a weak voice.

“I’ll get you one.”

By ‘box’, I assumed she meant something like a litter box. With that in mind, I hunted for anything that would work and then put her in the bathtub. That worked for the cat. I cleaned the tub and then went to the kitchen and found us some food.

The front door opened. An elderly woman entered. She demanded to know who I was but went on without letting me answer, “This is my house. You shouldn’t be in here.”

I agreed and tried to explain my emergency. She wouldn’t listen, insisting that I leave and turn myself into the constable. I agreed that I would, which was a lie; I wasn’t turning myself in.

The cats and I left and went down the street. We found a brown house and went in. I saw a red sweater and put it on. The end.

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A Time Dream

First, one dream ended. All I remember of it was that Glenn Greenwald was mentioned. Then I discussed someone’s book. No details from that remain with me. In the end, I was trying to explain what I meant but couldn’t think of a specific word. I tried writing it on a white board and wrote in lower case letters in red, ‘threat’. Standing back, I said, “That’s not what I meant to write.”

But a new dreamisode began. I was studying with others. We were a small class, five, learning in an old farmhouse. The other students and I were talking and joking when we were supposed to be studying. I picked up the book to try again. The subject was macroeconomics and my interest in learning it was low.

The teacher, a young, short white man with a black beard, entered and asked if we were ready for our exam. Other students who were younger than us approached our farmhouse. My class watched them out the window. We discovered they’d taken the same course and had already finished the exam. Not only that, but they were ahead of us on lessons.

My classmates and I were dismayed. We were expected to read several chapters, amounting to hundreds of pages, in a few days and then pass an exam on it? I laughed. “I need more time,” I said to the instructor.

“How much time?” he asked.

I laughed again. “A few years.”

Dream end.

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The Drawing Dream

The dream began in my high school library. My tenth grade English teacher told us that we were to draw a scene from the library. I announced that I was going to draw something with the Daleks.

That really pleased her. With others watching, I quickly sketched a scene of one of the tables surrounded by book cases, and then drew in two Daleks. The teacher disliked the empty table. She wanted me to put a student in it. I finally relented and drew in one of my classmates. She was embarrassed to be selected, but I shrugged that off.

I added more details, shadows, and textures. The other students watched. The teacher had to leave. I stayed there, with others watching. Other students sat down and drew beside me. Some wanted to copy my drawing. Others wanted me to change my drawing. I wouldn’t.

I was stymied, though; I couldn’t think of a punchline.

That’s how the dream ended.

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