Dreams of Yore

Before I created this blog, I was in the habit of writing a lot of scattered and disconnected bits all over the various computers I used. Things like “notes to self,” lists of goals, and journals of lessons learned.

Unfortunately, I never really found a good way to keep that stuff organized, plus I didn’t do it with any kind of regularity. At some point I migrated it my current desktop computer, but it’s spread around various directores, in text files, Word files, and note-taking applications. Now and then I poke around and find interesting things, such as the following observation I made in 1996 after dealing with a number of different colleagues who were Hell-bent on letting policies and procedures define how they did everything:

When I think of M___’s and B___’s need to have all procedures mapped out and to do everything by formula, I can’t help but see it as compensation for a lack of talent.

Nice. Sadly, I still encounter that phenomenon on a pretty regular basis, but I had forgotten that particular analysis; or at least that articulation of the analysis.

On a lighter note, I also recently uncovered a few notes I made about my dreams. Wait, don’t run away yet; they’re very brief! What struck me was not only that my dreams back then were particularly nutty, but that I rarely have such dreams now. Too bad. I miss them.

Here are a few samples:

October 1995

There is a very aggressive wasp buzzing around in the room.  I keep swatting at it, and when I hit it, I distinctly and memorably feel its weight against the palm of my hand.  I realize that it is a particularly large wasp with the head of a human.  The head is that of a Japanese doctor.  He wears glasses, but cannot speak.  He produces tiny sheets of waxy transparent paper and writes small messages on them.  It turns out he was in love with J___ (my then-girlfriend).  I am afraid to tell the wasp that J___ and I are involved, because doing so might initiate some kind of attack.

August 1996

I am in hiding, being sheltered by an Indian family.  They insisted I change clothes and give me a pair of pink sweat pants.

January 1998

(Not long after seeing “Alien Resurrection.”) Sigourney Weaver is tied up (very elegantly) in my bed.  She is naked and covered in clear slime.  All of my senses (touch, smell, etc.) are very vivid.  I start licking the slime, and then I realize that she doesn’t actually want to be tied up.  I untie her and she punches me in the head.

March 1998

S___ (colleague at work) is dead and about to be buried. I am observing from a distance, and I see that his coffin is being carried by six small people, including B___ (one of the aforementioned by-the-formula talentless people). I am concerned that they will drop the coffin, as S___ is a very big guy.  Sure enough, B___ fumbles and the coffin falls through a doorway, busting open just before it goes out of sight.

9 thoughts on “Dreams of Yore

  1. Dude,

    There is psychiatric care available. I believe there’s a walk-in basis clinic somewhere near the Neurology Unit at the Jewish, or you could try St. Mary’s. Don’t have a clue about the Royal Vic but Dr. Rahal at the old Queen Elizabeth is very very good.

    My recommendation is to make sure you have your Medicare card (have you checked its expiration date recently?) and have someone drive you to one of the above locations, very very slowly if possible (you might become a bit agitated) and then gently ask the attendants not to make the straitjacket too tight.

    Okay. Do that for me, will you? I guess that’s a yes but I’ll know better when they’ve let you off the Thorazine.

  2. Hey, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Click “Dreams” in the list of categories (over there on the right) and you’ll get lots more where that came from. My favorite is the dream about the Komodo dragon wearing an aligator mask and sniffing my crotch (I’m not making that up).

    Then there was the famous dream about lampreys. I was sure I had posted something about that here but I can’t find it. Maybe I wrote it elsewhere. I’ll try to find it, cuz I think it was a doozie.

  3. Umm, if it comes to it, one blink for yes, two blinks for no.

    Or is it the other way around?

  4. Oh yeah, I think in this case the Physician’s Hippocratic Oath is “Do Not Resuscitate Under Any Foreseeable Circumstances.”

    I think they even have a Patch for that.

  5. Hey Ed,

    Don’t listen to the guys that say these are nutty dreams. Well, they are… but nutty dreams are the sign of a person who is in control of the nuttiness and stress in their conscious lives. I am sticking to that theory because I still have dreams like these on occasion.

    Let’s see, there was the one where I went to visit a former boss, a distinguished doctor with whom I always had a very professional relationship. We sat and chatted for a while, he told me how much he missed the quality of my work and then, as a farewell gesture, he proceeded to lick my eyelids.

    Or the one just a few nights before my first trans-Atlantic business trip (I am a nervous flyer, btw) where I stopped to help a woman with a crying baby at the airport just minutes before the boarding deadline for my flight. She somehow stole my passport and ticket and sold it to the ‘King of the Gypsies’ (no offense meant, but that was his name in the dream). I got mad, tracked him down in the warehouse district, proceeded to beat the $*** out of him AND his gang, got my stuff back and made it back to the airport in time for my flight. Somehow, I woke rather refreshed and empowered after that dream and the trip went very well.

    Wacky dreams are good for you. I think that they keep you from doing stupid stuff in real life. Which reminds me, I hope I have one before I fly to Europe next week. Otherwise I may feel compelled to pull a Marge Simpson before takeoff. :-)

    Ummm, sorry. Maybe I should start my own dream blog. Or how about if I just get back to work now. Thanks for making me laugh.

  6. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Poppy! BTW, those are some outstanding dreams. Feel free to share them here any time!

  7. Blork,

    Of course you know I was just kidding. :)

    But when I appear in your next dream with a sharpened Kasumi 8″ chef’s knife, just run, don’t hide. No questions, first exit to your left.

    (And that will be for not videoing your last pizza session).

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