In Dreams I Walk With You

It might be my new brain pharmaceuticals or old age or my impending death, but several physiological changes have happened to me over the past couple of weeks, since "the big event." Some of these changes I refuse to discuss because it's none of your goddamn fucking business (and HIPAA protects my privacy). But if anyone has Bob Dole's number maybe you can help a fella out if you know what I mean?

Anyway, one of these changes is a fairly new ability to clearly recall dreams. I've always been fascinated by dreams and dreaming without any of the stigma of assigning meaning to them. They're just dreams and that's what's cool about them. I have tried over the years to document my dreams on a regular basis thanks to advice from my old pal Bill Domhoff. Most are merely notes of quickly fading memories in notebooks. Some have been posted around here. Big Dave Wave can apparently control the action within his dreams. I can't do that yet but I hope I can keep remembering them well.

This morning I awoke at 5:13 after awaking from a frustrating dream about my attempts at teaching the first day of university-level Intro Psych Stats. The chalk pieces were just little brittle nubs, I couldn't spell "Inferential" or "Descriptive" nor could I correctly write a simple algebraic example for my students (like 5+a=8, solve for 'a'). WTF, right? I didn't have notes and I was sweating like a motherfucker because I was so ill prepared and I knew it.

The frustration grew to the point where my students were wandering around ignoring me like I was some white bread Teach For America rookie in Baltimore city. I was a total pussy too, "C'mon, guys. Can you just sit down?"

Anyway, I had a dream last Friday that I posted here because it's a Black Beatles Wednesday: