Airports and weird dreams
After yesterdays travel snafu, Harry managed to get to NYC this morning OK. He's now waiting at the airport. His 6:59 PM flight got pushed to 7:38 PM with a scheduled departure of 8:11 PM. I've been checking the FAA website and there's a traffic management thing going on where they're delaying arrivals at LGA. Methinks that they're just waiting to pack as many people onto one flight as possible. I hope they don't cancel his flight. It's too late for him to catch the train. The weather is fine, so he should get back tonight.
His early morning departure had us both awake at 4:00 AM. I went back to bed and had the strangest dream. I'm not one to remember my dreams, but if do, they're usually very odd or they're full-blown nightmares. But these are rare.
I don't remember all the bits, but in the dream I was at a friend's house in North Carolina. I've never actually been to their house, though. I had locked myself in a room on the top floor of the house because there were gunshots coming from the first floor. There was some guy and a woman down there...don't remember anything about the woman, but the guy was the one with gun and the reason I was upstairs. I think I was trying to get out the window when I saw him leaving the house--he was on his back with his hands crossed in front of his chest as if he was in a coffin or on a stretcher, except there was nobody carrying him. At some point I went downstairs. There I found my friend tending to the wounded. Several people, all of whom I know from North Carolina, were shot. Nobody was dead, but they were all wounded. My dog Dobre, was there. She had been shot but was OK, and she was lying on a towel or blanket like all the other people. I said something to my friend and went to check on Dobre to see if she was OK. It was then that my friend pointed out to me that I had been shot, but it was only a flesh wound. I didn't feel it, but a bullet had grazed a rib. That's when I woke up.
How odd.
I told a friend of mine at work about the dream today. We came up with the interpretation that this was a grant-related stress dream. Yesterday I found out that the NIH paylines are not going up anytime soon, and I have a big grant getting reviewed next month. I'm currently working on an uber-grant with a bunch of people from North Carolina. I was working on that grant late last night. We guessed that the house represents the uber-grant, the wounded poeple my collaborators on said grant, and the gunman was either the director of the NIH or the head of the review section for the grant. I'm not sure why my dog was in the dream. Maybe, on some level, I was aware of her sleeping next to me. The grazing bullet meant that I was close to getting funded and that the other folks weren't--but the main thing was that even though it was going to be tough, we'd all make it through the grant process. A little bloodied, but generally OK.
That's one interpretation. The grant situation better start looking better soon, or my dreams are going to get stranger. Thankfully I don't have the wolves-trying-to-eat-me dream that I had all the time when I was a post-doc. Didn't like that one.
Nope.
His early morning departure had us both awake at 4:00 AM. I went back to bed and had the strangest dream. I'm not one to remember my dreams, but if do, they're usually very odd or they're full-blown nightmares. But these are rare.
I don't remember all the bits, but in the dream I was at a friend's house in North Carolina. I've never actually been to their house, though. I had locked myself in a room on the top floor of the house because there were gunshots coming from the first floor. There was some guy and a woman down there...don't remember anything about the woman, but the guy was the one with gun and the reason I was upstairs. I think I was trying to get out the window when I saw him leaving the house--he was on his back with his hands crossed in front of his chest as if he was in a coffin or on a stretcher, except there was nobody carrying him. At some point I went downstairs. There I found my friend tending to the wounded. Several people, all of whom I know from North Carolina, were shot. Nobody was dead, but they were all wounded. My dog Dobre, was there. She had been shot but was OK, and she was lying on a towel or blanket like all the other people. I said something to my friend and went to check on Dobre to see if she was OK. It was then that my friend pointed out to me that I had been shot, but it was only a flesh wound. I didn't feel it, but a bullet had grazed a rib. That's when I woke up.
How odd.
I told a friend of mine at work about the dream today. We came up with the interpretation that this was a grant-related stress dream. Yesterday I found out that the NIH paylines are not going up anytime soon, and I have a big grant getting reviewed next month. I'm currently working on an uber-grant with a bunch of people from North Carolina. I was working on that grant late last night. We guessed that the house represents the uber-grant, the wounded poeple my collaborators on said grant, and the gunman was either the director of the NIH or the head of the review section for the grant. I'm not sure why my dog was in the dream. Maybe, on some level, I was aware of her sleeping next to me. The grazing bullet meant that I was close to getting funded and that the other folks weren't--but the main thing was that even though it was going to be tough, we'd all make it through the grant process. A little bloodied, but generally OK.
That's one interpretation. The grant situation better start looking better soon, or my dreams are going to get stranger. Thankfully I don't have the wolves-trying-to-eat-me dream that I had all the time when I was a post-doc. Didn't like that one.
Nope.