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Secret sharers

February 28, 2011

I had NO IDEA anyone else had the witness-a-plane-crash dream.  The teeth dream, yes.  Car out of control seems both logical and sufficiently vague to appeal to many a subconscious.  I forgot to say that another archetype–the Naked In Public dream–has visited me only rarely.  (I remember being about ten years old and dreaming that Peter Pan had finally appeared to take me to Never-Never Land.  I was wearing, both in the dream and in real life, a red nylon nightgown that I both loved and was self-conscious about, because I felt it was possibly a little bit too sexy and grown up for me, and as Peter Pan gathered me up to fly away, I was mortified to realize I was not wearing underpants.)  I’ve never had the Oh God I’m In School And There’s A Test I Haven’t Studied For dream–possibly because, as my mother often points out, that was pretty much the story of my school years in real life.  Nothing to get flustered about!

These dreams are funny, aren’t they, because they’re not precisely nightmares, but they are never pleasant.  I have had a dream where suddenly I am either very pregnant or have a newborn, and I think, Geeze, how did THIS happen without my really noticing that things were underway?  But by far the most frequent are the teeth/car/plane crash dream, and I must tell you that as I was driving along a moderately busy road near my house a couple of weeks ago, a gigantic meteorite (it must have been a meteorite) blazed across the sky in broad daylight.  It was quite something.  People stopped their cars and pointed and everything, and for a moment I thought, Oh, my god, that’s a plane and it’s crashing and this is just like the dream and…oh.  Only a meteorite.  Psssssh.

Lately my sleeping habits have become atrocious, and talking about dreaming makes me long for bed.  I have got to reform my staying-up ways–I hit a crucial point at around 1, and if I’m not asleep by then I often stay up way, way too late.  It throws everything off the next day, and ruins my productivity and my sunny disposition.

The children, who have not seen much of their father recently (last weekend, ostensibly his, was spent mostly at my house, because my father and stepmother were visiting) experienced a collective meltdown yesterday afternoon and after everyone had finished venting I offered the suggestion that they might like to spend the evening with their dad.  (Then I worried he would say no, and they’d be sad.  But lo and behold, when we called him, and I explained that they seemed to be missing him, and would he mind if I brought them over for the night? he said Yes.)

As we gathered their things I told them “Aren’t we lucky that your dad and I live so close by?  When I used to miss my father, he was three thousand miles away and I knew I wouldn’t see him till summer.”  And they said that yes, they were lucky.  It was a heartwarming little moment, and it was, naturally, short lived (this afternoon the older son, angry that his poor conduct earlier in the weekend had inspired me to take away a privilege he richly deserved to lose, informed me that he only gets in trouble over here, he never gets in trouble at Dad’s, there is something about me that just makes him behave badly, and that I never give him enough food nor am I a particularly pleasant person to live with, and so on. My failure to rise to the bait makes me even more annoying, I suppose.)

Anyway.  I am falling behind with various tasks, and must sleep a normal amount tonight so that I will function like a normal adult tomorrow.  There is another post up at Babble.  And I hope there will be an even newer one soon.  Please click, if you can, because my revenue from that site has been disappointingly scant.  Not that I have exactly broken my back working to write over there, but still.  You would be appalled if I told you how little the personal bloggers at Babble get paid, but every little bit helps, and I’m in a swivet about money, even more than usual.  I wonder what anxiety dreams directly pertain to anxiousness about money?

PS The keys turned up in the pocket of my boyfriend’s jacket, though how they got there is a mystery. And the kitten eats all day long and has practically tripled in size and sociability.

4 Comments leave one →
  1. youngest wren of nine permalink
    March 1, 2011 4:19 am

    From what I can tell, the new post at babble (“hints for the person who stays in the house”?) isn’t up yet but I am looking forward to it and will gladly click.
    Re dreams: I remember reading that therapy style influences the kinds of dreams patients have, so Freudian analysts get to interpret Freudian dreams, patients of Jungian (sorry: DSCHungian) analysts have the archetypal dreams etc. So I’m surprised that I haven’t started dreaming of tooth loss, what with all the affection and respect I have for your writing. Btw, your excellent bathmat example makes me think of that part in Ephron’s “Heartburn” where Rachel and her soon-to-be ex-husband are arguing about coffee tables while the mover is sitting there, waiting for them to finish. And at the end of the move, he shakes her hand and says “I had five others this week just like this one. Yours wasn’t so bad.” Which leads her to say, a few pages further on: “But it was. Even when you end a marriage you want to end, it’s awful.”

  2. Pinkie Bling permalink
    March 1, 2011 11:31 am

    How amazing, to witness a broad-daylight meteorite! (“Psssssh” – HA!) Am I the only one who feels the kitten needs a nickname, a “handle,” if you will, here on your blog? I hope she is delightfully fuzzy and pouncy and purry. There is nothing quite like a kitten!

  3. March 2, 2011 2:06 pm

    Ah, the incipient teenager in the house. I, too, get told that I am no fun to live with, don’t have enough interesting/good food in the house to eat, am in general a bummer. And then there are those moments of transcendent joy I experience when unexpectedly my son will reach out and hold my hand while he excitedly tells me about something that happened in school. There’s something so heartrending about this age. It feels like nostalgia…if you know what I mean?

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