Last night I dreamed that I was visiting my mother and aunt at my grandmother's old beach cottage*. Somehow I had lost track of time and had to convince them that I needed to pack and leave for the bus to Logan Airport that day, Monday, May 25th, because I had a flight to catch. Somehow, I had forgotten what the date was and had assumed it was... well, the 19th. There also was the sad feeling that I hadn't spent enough time at the beach on my vacation, and the urge to dash off to the beach instead of packing.
Maybe it's because I can't visit the beach this year -- things are just too uncertain because I don't have a job and might need to be available for interviews -- and didn't last year because I had my dissertation to finish.
Also, for some reason, there were cats in the kitchen, trapped by a baby gate, because no anxiety-based dream is complete without a surreal element.
* Grandma left it jointly to her kids. Since two of them didn't live in the area and one had a beach cottage of his own, they decided to sell it several years after my grandmother's death. Sadly the developers who bought it tore it down to build something with multiple stories.
Maybe it's because I can't visit the beach this year -- things are just too uncertain because I don't have a job and might need to be available for interviews -- and didn't last year because I had my dissertation to finish.
Also, for some reason, there were cats in the kitchen, trapped by a baby gate, because no anxiety-based dream is complete without a surreal element.
* Grandma left it jointly to her kids. Since two of them didn't live in the area and one had a beach cottage of his own, they decided to sell it several years after my grandmother's death. Sadly the developers who bought it tore it down to build something with multiple stories.