I was in a writing class. We were assigned to redraw a magazine cover, which consisted primarily of a series of triangles, and then write about it. For some reason I was tearing pages from the magazine to find a blank piece of paper. Before I knew it, I had destroyed the magazine and didn't have an image of the cover. My classmates were starting to read their stories, and I hadn't even started.
I climbed to the top of a tower dedicated to Harriet Tubman. To climb down, I needed to take off my shoes and go barefoot. I also had to throw my notebook off the tower before I descended. I didn't get what I needed (presumably inspiration of some type.)
I parked my SUV to drop off my sister-in-law at the Norwalk Airport. She told me that Jeff had taken some wedding or Christmas presents, and, for the second time, the presents had disappeared. I told her Jeff would not resell the gifts. I wondered if they were in our messy second bedroom.
I was with my brother and a friend at an outdoor restaurant. My brother was upset because he punched someone and was on parole. My friend was fighting with the waitress. I worried the waitress would do something to my friend's food.
There were other disjointed parts to these dreams: my niece talking about a high school rivalry, an art show, a bus collapsing a bridge, a bunch of us being wet for some unknown reason.
I woke up 10 minutes before the alarm went out. In the next few minutes, I was thinking about my dreams while half asleep. I dreamed I was walking and started to trip over something on the trail. I jolted forward, now fully awake seconds before the alarm went off.
Dreams are weird. There is no Norwalk Airport. I didn't climb a Harriet Tubman tower. There are only a few real things in the dream: it was my real sister-in-law, my real niece, I am married to Jeff, and we have a messy second bedroom.
I guess the weirdest thing is that yesterday was a pretty good day. Where did all this frustration come from?
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