Dreamology
I just had what may very well be the worst dream ever.
I was at a university. I have been taking classes in mathematics (not for credit towards a degree, just taking them to boost my chances of getting into the grad program for sociology,) and doing remarkably well at them. I have recently met some professor types from other departments (one tall thin man and one blonde woman in particular) and burbled about some really interesting idea I have had linking some historical moment and a culture or subculture. (I wish I could remember what this idea was; be assured that it was not a commonly-thought-of linkage, and at least at that moment, it was fairly brilliant.)
It is final exams. I have just come from dropping off my test which I am dead certain that I will pass, and am chatting with a friend I have made who is hoping to apply to the grad program in history. Everyone around us in very serious and/or very scared. We are not, because a) we are not actually in a degree program and b) we have aced the class and test and know it.
Tall thin guy, (history) accompanied by blonde lady, (sociology) meet up with us and say that they'd like to talk. We (especially I) am rather confused, as, apart from this one burble-time, I have not really spoken with these people. However, we agree.
Tall thin guy says that our future plans are well-known and as such, they've been keeping an eye on our progress. we have both shown remarkable aptitude for our work. He hands each of us a small packet of papers paper-clipped together. He explains that it's possible for departments to accept people into grad school outside of the application process, and these packets are our acceptance forms.
There is a wellspring of joy bubbling up inside of me. My friend is already hopping up and down in glee. I check the packet to make certain I have not been accepted into the history program. I have not. I start laughing. I start hugging everything. The paper is clutched tightly in my hands, because i know I cannot lose it. I am, at the moment, absolutely, positively, ecstatic.
And then I start to wake up. And I start to realize that this ecstatic happiness is all a dream and I am alone in a dark, quiet room, and there is nothing to be happy about. (Nothing to be sad about, either, but I have just gone from a +100 on the happiness scale to a 0 in a few seconds.) This may have been one of the more depressing moments of my life. As I moved away from the dream timewise, the soul-crushing fall from ecstasy receded, as dream-states tend to do, but it still sucked.
I genuinely thought the dream was real. Almost everyone in the dream, from the background characters to the friend and the blonde woman, are based off of a real person who is in that approximate position in real life. (Tall thin guy being the exception.) I was absolutely, utterly convinced of its reality, and realizing that it was all just a dream was horrible.
Yes, it's wish-fulfillment in its highest mode, complete with the fairy godmother recognizing the inner goodness of the Cinderella. Doesn't make losing that acceptance any less sucky.
I was at a university. I have been taking classes in mathematics (not for credit towards a degree, just taking them to boost my chances of getting into the grad program for sociology,) and doing remarkably well at them. I have recently met some professor types from other departments (one tall thin man and one blonde woman in particular) and burbled about some really interesting idea I have had linking some historical moment and a culture or subculture. (I wish I could remember what this idea was; be assured that it was not a commonly-thought-of linkage, and at least at that moment, it was fairly brilliant.)
It is final exams. I have just come from dropping off my test which I am dead certain that I will pass, and am chatting with a friend I have made who is hoping to apply to the grad program in history. Everyone around us in very serious and/or very scared. We are not, because a) we are not actually in a degree program and b) we have aced the class and test and know it.
Tall thin guy, (history) accompanied by blonde lady, (sociology) meet up with us and say that they'd like to talk. We (especially I) am rather confused, as, apart from this one burble-time, I have not really spoken with these people. However, we agree.
Tall thin guy says that our future plans are well-known and as such, they've been keeping an eye on our progress. we have both shown remarkable aptitude for our work. He hands each of us a small packet of papers paper-clipped together. He explains that it's possible for departments to accept people into grad school outside of the application process, and these packets are our acceptance forms.
There is a wellspring of joy bubbling up inside of me. My friend is already hopping up and down in glee. I check the packet to make certain I have not been accepted into the history program. I have not. I start laughing. I start hugging everything. The paper is clutched tightly in my hands, because i know I cannot lose it. I am, at the moment, absolutely, positively, ecstatic.
And then I start to wake up. And I start to realize that this ecstatic happiness is all a dream and I am alone in a dark, quiet room, and there is nothing to be happy about. (Nothing to be sad about, either, but I have just gone from a +100 on the happiness scale to a 0 in a few seconds.) This may have been one of the more depressing moments of my life. As I moved away from the dream timewise, the soul-crushing fall from ecstasy receded, as dream-states tend to do, but it still sucked.
I genuinely thought the dream was real. Almost everyone in the dream, from the background characters to the friend and the blonde woman, are based off of a real person who is in that approximate position in real life. (Tall thin guy being the exception.) I was absolutely, utterly convinced of its reality, and realizing that it was all just a dream was horrible.
Yes, it's wish-fulfillment in its highest mode, complete with the fairy godmother recognizing the inner goodness of the Cinderella. Doesn't make losing that acceptance any less sucky.