For the second time in three days I’ve had the dream where I show up for a yoga class wearing a floppy shirt and no bra. This, I believe is equal to the dream where one shows up to school or the office naked. In the dream I’m horrified that anyone (everyone!) will see my bewbies as I upend into downward dog, and before I can decide if I should just go home, I wake up.

But this stuff has been the crux of my biscuit for the last few months – uncertainty, self doubt, crisis of confidence* and more than a little paralysis, all of it working itslf out while I sleep,**  and taking up space when I’m not conscious and putting a good face on the stressy business of life.

Recurring dreams to make sense of:

– I pull toys from my flesh: wooden snakes, matchbox airplanes, squeaky toys. It doesn’t hurt or anything, I just pull these toys out of different parts of my body because they don’t belong there – like a splinter or something.
– Driving the car from the back seat. I’ve been having this one since high school.
– I show up to take an exam in a class that I haven’t actually attended in so long that I’m not sure where on campus the class is. I frantically run all over campus trying to locate the class in time to sit an exam that I very likely will not pass. Again, I’ve had this dream since high school.
– The holes-in-the-floor dream: I’m in a beautiful old house that I may or may not share with (lots of) other people, and there are whole rooms that cannot be inhabited because there are enormous chunks of floor missing. In this dream, also, I’m generally afraid of going down any flight of stairs.*** I think This one has been hanging around for five years or so.
– The occasional WoW dreams – but those are usually fun. They also don’t have a recurring plot, just the recurring setting.†
– The dream where I have to pee, but the bathroom is too dirty to use (ala the bathroom in the beginning of Trainspotting). But I’m pretty sure that one’s just my brain telling me Hey! Wake up and amble to the bathroom!

In a nutshell, my brain is prolly just working overtime about stuff.  School has started and that means a new (earlier) schedule; I have a ton of crafty stuff I should be doing and no interest in doing it (Dude. I have fabric. Lots of fabric.); if I continue to listen to NPR I may go screaming into the streets;†† the super balls that ocasionally find their way into our checking account, regardless of how much I budget and scrimp; the book I haven’t finished writing and don’t know the ending to; the poetry feature I ill-advisedly drunkenly accepted and so haven’t sent a bio out for yet; the goofy dungeon boss that I’ve been banging my head up against for two days (the last boss in Nexus for the legendary staff quest? He is a first class jerk);  the fact that I’m forty and I still smoke, even tho’ I’d rather be training like they did for The Matrix movies, but I know I’d huff n’ puff through anything that vigorous… All that stuff is swirling around in there like zomg, and I cannot seem to get a grip on it.

So, of course, I’m thinking about joining a gym. This, friends,  is how my logic works.

***

*Anyone got a good peptalk? I’ll totally listen.
**Poorly. Bah. 
***I actually was afraid of stairs without backs until I was way to old to justifyy being afraid of them. The going down was scarier than the going up.
†I get to be a nelf, in nelfy places. This is pretty cool.
††With something about the economy, jobs, and America’s failing schools vomiting forth from my lips.

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