Essays and Etcetera

Today I will write about dreams I had this week, just so you can all worry about my mental stability. Don’t let Freud get his hands on this.

Early this week I had a dream about a scale. It was bright florescent pink and made from a textured plastic fabric. Apparently I had bought it, and was pretty pleased with this fancy new scale that was rolled up. I unrolled the scale and stood on it to see what I weighed. I was unhappy with the number on the scale, and couldn’t believe I was that fat. Then I realized the number I wanted to see was how much fat I had–this was one of those fancy new scales that can somehow use an electrical current to measure your body fat content. I reasoned that since the number was so high and I clearly wasn’t that fat the scale must not be working properly or I was doing something wrong. Then I saw the little electronic eye (or button) beside the digital number display, and understood I had to put my big toe on that button to get a reading of my body fat. So I put my big toe on the button and the number on the display was much better. I was very pleased.

I did it again . . . and again . . . and again.

Then I woke up.

My thought on waking was, “That has got to be one of the stupidest dreams I have ever had. What a waste of dreaming. If I am going to dream it could at least be of something more interesting than a pink fabric scale that checks my body fat weight every time I put my big toe over the button.”

Later in the week I dream I was in college and had forgot to write my finals paper, tomorrow was the last day of class, it was late at night, and I was very tired. I could either try to stay up and write the paper (being so tired I could barely keep my eyes open) or I could go to bed and hope I could get up early enough to write the paper in the morning. I was appalled and deeply, deeply, embarrassed that I could possibly have forgotten something so important. Mortification and self-recriminations filled me as I tried to figure out what had gone wrong, and what I was going to do about it.

“But what . . . But how . . . I can’t possibly . . . how did I forget . . .” I thought to myself, and the emotions responded, Oh, you forgot! You bad little boy, you completely forgot! You forgot so bad, and now you’re in troubleeee!

“Wait a minute,” I thought. “I’m not in college, am I? I haven’t been in college for years.”

Yes you are, and you’re in trouble.

“No, I’m not! I’m not in college! I’m not in college! I don’t have a paper due tomorrow! I don’t have any papers due tomorrow! This is a dream! This must be a dream! Yes, this is a dream!”

I was very glad to wake up.

Probably just about everyone who has gone to college has had similar college dreams. What I find so odd in my case is that I only took two college classes in a non-matriculated status. I did very well in both classes, and never forgot a paper. I don’t recall having nightmares at the time about missing papers. But in the years afterwards I have intermittently but consistently had dreams where I am back in college and have forgotten a paper was due, forgot I signed up for a class, forgot to pay a bill, forgot to catch the bus–or any number of other variations on embarrassing forgetfulness.

Clearly the event made a deep impression on my psyche.