I had multiple and elaborate stress dreams last night. (It is unfortunate to remember one’s night terror.)
It started out in the usual way: there was a test coming up based on FOUR years of college-level mathematics and I had cut all of the classes for ALL four years. So, I had to find a tutor. My college friends suggested someone, another friend from college. So, we went in search of her and that takes us to Brazil. But we can’t see any of the sites while we are there (we are always stymied) so we are looking for a cybercafe to look up all the must-see things in Rio that we are missing. We walked by an open-air stadium and we heard Diana Ross and the Supremes. We whipped out our hair brushes, and used them as mics as we did a lip-synching street show.
Some facts to know:
- I cut almost every 8am calculus class freshman year and scraped by with a C (given the grade inflation that existed at Dartmouth, it was as if I passed by the grace of G-d) and never went near another math-related course.
- On rides to and from school, we often whipped out our hair brushes to sing back-up for whatever song was on the radio (no CDs or iPods then).
- I have been to many cities in Brazil, as well as the rainforest.
So, stress and life conflated into an intricate, colorful and stressful dream. Maybe the humor in my stress dream signals a growing maturity in handling of stress. Or, more likely, I was lucky that my dream amused me, in addition to sending me into a cold sweat.
Paging, Dr. Freud. . . .
