Nightmares and Dreamscapes*

Sometimes you have to break out Freud, Jung or Lacan to figure out what the heck your brain-body is trying to tell you about what is bothering you about your life.

(I make no distinction between the mind and the body during dream states. That doesn’t mean that I am a monist. I am most certainly not. I believe in I have a soul, am a spirit, believe in God, etc. I also believe that the body remembers things as well. It stores emotions, activities and such. What I mean is I believe the body and soul are more intimately connected in sleep than in waking life. There is not an überconsciousness to get in the way. )

Sometimes you can have a great dream about sharing a bed with someone special. Sometimes you dream you are flying or falling. Some dreams are absolutely bizarre and you have no idea what they are about at all. As the fragments hit your awakening brain all you can think is “What the hell was that?” Sometimes you have nightmares that scare the hell out of you, like waking up and all life suddenly was like this shit.

Not me. Not lately, anyway. I know exactly what my dreams are about. I dreamt twice the other night. They are different dreams, but have the same theme. Here goes:

Dream #1:

I am sitting in an office. Across from me behind a large desk is am man. I think he was a black man, but I am not quite sure since the room is somewhat dark. He says to me, “Ok, so we are offering to pay you nineteen thousand dollars per year if you take this job.”

“Nineteen? You will have to make to twenty, if you really want me to take it.”

“Twenty it is then,”

We stand up and shake on it both of us getting exactly what we want. I leave the office and walk outside. It is a sunny day and I am smiling and whistling, pleased with myself. And I stop in my tracks…

…because I realize he didn’t say nineteen thousand dollars. He said forty-nine thousand dollars. And I just took it for twenty.

And I woke up in a cold sweat.

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Dream #2:

I am in a café of some sort, behind the counter, wearing an apron. It is my first day on the job.  I am nervous.

“We are throwing you right up at the register on your first day. Its sink or swim Andrew,” says a guy in a black polo shirt, obviously the manager.

I walk over to the register. The keyboard on the register is about three feet by two feet, but all the buttons are half the size of a key on a regular keyboard. I cannot read what button is for what product.

Flash forward.

There’s an angry crowd around the register all yelling at me. Red faces. Yelling louder. The register makes no sense. I can’t figure it out. People are shaking their fists at me. Manager guy comes up next to me.

“You didn’t even last fifteen minutes. Get the fuck out of here.”

And I woke up again.

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When I worked in IT I used to dream I was fixing computers and such. When I was working on my dissertation, I would dream I was researching or writing.  As an unemployed person I am not dreaming about unemployment. I am dreaming that I will screw up my future employment. Fear of failure. I don’t need Freud or Jung or Lacan for this.

*Thanks SK for letting me borrow this title