I keep having anxiety dreams. Last night, a variation on the same themes: I'm trying to pack up my belongings. I'm moving. Jerry (I think it's Jerry - when I wake up, I'm never quite sure it was him. It might have been someone from the past that I really would prefer not to have emerging from my subconscious, but I think we can take it as a given that it means Jerry) - Jerry is there. Jerry is not coming with me. For some reason, he's either staying behind or going somewhere else. I can't get all my things packed in time. My car has been towed or has otherwise turned up damaged or disappeared. My belongings end up on the street, strewn about, and I'm struggling to collect them all. Sometimes I'm moving back to an apartment in Manhattan that I haven't sold, that I've been renting out to someone all this time. Sometimes my friend Fran, who in this ridiculous real life died over a year ago now, is there, healthy and whole.
Early this morning I kept waking up out of one of those dreams, glad it was over, then falling back into it again. It's so bloody obvious, there's no reason to try to figure it out.
*** sigh ***
ReplyDeleteRather obvious, like the dreams I described last week.