Why does my subconscious torture me?
I had a dream that I was back IN HIGH SCHOOL.
Kill me now, right?
I even had the good sense to dream old NHS as the high school I remember before I worked there, before all the bond elections and renovations. Long story short? I woke up six times last night, and SLIPPED BACK INTO THE DREAM EVERY SINGLE TIME. Why, oh, why couldn't that ever happen when I'm having lovely dreams about David Boreanaz giving me a foot rub? (Not that I've ever had that dream, but a girl can hope.)
I said short, but here's the long version. I was taking classes that I had NO business being in: Statistics? (I barely passed that in college.) Intro to theatre(?!), Creative Writing (not such a stretch), Anatomy and Physiology, GERMAN (Helloooooo? Never took German. What I know of German I learned from my ex-stepfather and Hogan's Heroes and it consists mainly of expletives and exclamations) and... Agricultural Sciences.
I don't even know how to categorize that last one.
Anyhow, Nolan, Ethan and Aaron were my siblings (please don't 'dream interpret' this for me, I don't have the heart to hear what it means), Mom was out of town and we were all home from school. Aaron got sent home sick, Ethan skipped and Nolan was in college. I was truant as well. I decided not to go because I hadn't finished my homework.
This NEVER happened in high school in real life. In the dream, I was also having issues ducking the truancy officer. Reality? Unless I was DYING, and I mean coughing up a lung or bleeding OUT, I was in school. Always.
So there was my guilt about that. Also, I hadn't attended an Anatomy and Physiology class more than once the entire semester, and I was worried how I was going to make up the labs... Of dissecting cats, no less. (Fun fact: I actually did that. Brenda Whaley was my lab partner and we named our specimen Fluffy, for obvious reasons.) So I sat at the kitchen table at 214 E. Vilbig and did HOMEWORK all day, even giving Nolan an impromptu lesson on Commedia Dell'arte, which I hadn't thought about since taking one of Dennis Maher (my favorite college professor)'s "History of" classes.
I've never been more thankful that all I have to do today is sew bags for the Haiti mission trip, cook dinner and go to rehearsal. I also walked out to the garage to take my kids to school and found that someone had washed and vacuumed my car. My husband must love me. Man, my life is better than ANY dream. Even one in which Special Agent Seeley Booth might give me a foot rub. ;)
Kill me now, right?
I even had the good sense to dream old NHS as the high school I remember before I worked there, before all the bond elections and renovations. Long story short? I woke up six times last night, and SLIPPED BACK INTO THE DREAM EVERY SINGLE TIME. Why, oh, why couldn't that ever happen when I'm having lovely dreams about David Boreanaz giving me a foot rub? (Not that I've ever had that dream, but a girl can hope.)
I said short, but here's the long version. I was taking classes that I had NO business being in: Statistics? (I barely passed that in college.) Intro to theatre(?!), Creative Writing (not such a stretch), Anatomy and Physiology, GERMAN (Helloooooo? Never took German. What I know of German I learned from my ex-stepfather and Hogan's Heroes and it consists mainly of expletives and exclamations) and... Agricultural Sciences.
I don't even know how to categorize that last one.
Anyhow, Nolan, Ethan and Aaron were my siblings (please don't 'dream interpret' this for me, I don't have the heart to hear what it means), Mom was out of town and we were all home from school. Aaron got sent home sick, Ethan skipped and Nolan was in college. I was truant as well. I decided not to go because I hadn't finished my homework.
This NEVER happened in high school in real life. In the dream, I was also having issues ducking the truancy officer. Reality? Unless I was DYING, and I mean coughing up a lung or bleeding OUT, I was in school. Always.
So there was my guilt about that. Also, I hadn't attended an Anatomy and Physiology class more than once the entire semester, and I was worried how I was going to make up the labs... Of dissecting cats, no less. (Fun fact: I actually did that. Brenda Whaley was my lab partner and we named our specimen Fluffy, for obvious reasons.) So I sat at the kitchen table at 214 E. Vilbig and did HOMEWORK all day, even giving Nolan an impromptu lesson on Commedia Dell'arte, which I hadn't thought about since taking one of Dennis Maher (my favorite college professor)'s "History of" classes.
I've never been more thankful that all I have to do today is sew bags for the Haiti mission trip, cook dinner and go to rehearsal. I also walked out to the garage to take my kids to school and found that someone had washed and vacuumed my car. My husband must love me. Man, my life is better than ANY dream. Even one in which Special Agent Seeley Booth might give me a foot rub. ;)