Nightmares
I had a really scary dream.
Well, it probably won't sound so scary in the telling, but I'm easily disturbed by my dreams. They're a big part of my sleep disturbances.
In the dream, I was at 'school' (college or boarding school, probably the former), and I was trying to read various poems, modern-ish, American poems and figure out who they were by. We were figuring out some sort of rhyming and scansion scheme, and names mentioned for the poets included Frank Bidart (who's a Wellesley professor, but who I've never taken a course with) and 'Housman'. I think one of the poems had the word 'Massachusetts' in it. There was a bit of going to the library, where the poetry section had more kids' poetry books than adult, and most of the ones in the adult section had been taken out.
And then we were supposed to be going to the actual school building or whatever (the building was also apparently 'Boston'), and I was there first, and the brick exterior was crawling with giant ants while the columns at the front door were wearing away and turned out to have a skeleton inside. The door itself had turned into solid concrete, with another skeleton--some sort of animal, possibly a small dinosaur, tailbone most prominent--also set inside. Had to go past that to get in, and careful examination showed that part of the cement was a sort of hinge that I could get my fingers into and pull, and it opened up a small, raised square door, very thick, that I could probably crawl through.
Inside, class was sort of half going, with the teacher near the door. The teacher was Martha Jones. She was playing with some chemicals, some of which she put on the counter near the door through which I was going to have to shimmy, and she had a vial of something else.
Behind me, the other girl arrived. She was Martha too.
We tried to figure out how to get in. Teacher Martha poured the other vial into the first, there was a lot of smoke, and we turned tail and ran because it was 'hydrochloric acid' and it was going to explode. It made a big bang, we were really running away, being all 'why would she do this' and also being quite hurt about it, but meanwhile, student Martha, who was a little ahead of me, was accidentally dripping the stuff too as she went, making little trails of fire, and I was trying to yell to her to stop.
I struggled out of sleep with sad music in the background (my alarm).
This reminds me that I need to write up the FUN dream I had last week involving David Tennant and pleather minidresses.
Well, it probably won't sound so scary in the telling, but I'm easily disturbed by my dreams. They're a big part of my sleep disturbances.
In the dream, I was at 'school' (college or boarding school, probably the former), and I was trying to read various poems, modern-ish, American poems and figure out who they were by. We were figuring out some sort of rhyming and scansion scheme, and names mentioned for the poets included Frank Bidart (who's a Wellesley professor, but who I've never taken a course with) and 'Housman'. I think one of the poems had the word 'Massachusetts' in it. There was a bit of going to the library, where the poetry section had more kids' poetry books than adult, and most of the ones in the adult section had been taken out.
And then we were supposed to be going to the actual school building or whatever (the building was also apparently 'Boston'), and I was there first, and the brick exterior was crawling with giant ants while the columns at the front door were wearing away and turned out to have a skeleton inside. The door itself had turned into solid concrete, with another skeleton--some sort of animal, possibly a small dinosaur, tailbone most prominent--also set inside. Had to go past that to get in, and careful examination showed that part of the cement was a sort of hinge that I could get my fingers into and pull, and it opened up a small, raised square door, very thick, that I could probably crawl through.
Inside, class was sort of half going, with the teacher near the door. The teacher was Martha Jones. She was playing with some chemicals, some of which she put on the counter near the door through which I was going to have to shimmy, and she had a vial of something else.
Behind me, the other girl arrived. She was Martha too.
We tried to figure out how to get in. Teacher Martha poured the other vial into the first, there was a lot of smoke, and we turned tail and ran because it was 'hydrochloric acid' and it was going to explode. It made a big bang, we were really running away, being all 'why would she do this' and also being quite hurt about it, but meanwhile, student Martha, who was a little ahead of me, was accidentally dripping the stuff too as she went, making little trails of fire, and I was trying to yell to her to stop.
I struggled out of sleep with sad music in the background (my alarm).
This reminds me that I need to write up the FUN dream I had last week involving David Tennant and pleather minidresses.