Recurring Dreams

I hate having the same dream over and over. I mean, I guess having recurring dreams could be a good thing, if it’s a good dream that you get to reenact time and time again, but it never seems to happen like that for me.

I had both of the following dreams (again) yesterday, one during my afternoon nap and one last night:

• The Minor Car Wreck: Back in December, I rear-ended someone one morning while I was driving in slick conditions. It had iced the night before, and was raining when it happened, and although I could see the car stopped far in front of me, when I put on the brakes, I got no traction, the car hydroplaned, and I hit the car in front of me. No one was hurt, but my car was pretty messed up. Ever since then, I’ve dreamed over and over about getting in car wrecks. Sometimes in parking lots, sometimes on the road, sometimes my car is damaged, sometimes it isn’t, but always it’s because my brakes won’t work, and always I can see the wreck coming in advance and this feeling of dread comes crashing down on me.

• Excessive Class Skipping: Back in college, I skipped class quite often, but I always did so in a calculated fashion—I always knew how many times I had skipped, how many skips I had left, and, in those wonderful classes in which attendance wasn’t required, how often I needed to actually go to class and still do well on tests. My recurring bad dream about class skipping is different though, in that generally, I completely forget that I’m in a certain class and later realize that I’ve skipped class for several weeks and now am in the difficult position of trying to resurrect my grade after not going to class all semester.

Anyone else ever have recurring dreams? Does anyone ever have good recurring dreams? Because personally, I’m getting really tired of fender-bending my car and failing Gen.Ed. classes.

Strange Dream

So last night I dreamed that I was at an Arkansas Razorback football game when I looked over and saw Chuck Norris in the stands.

Interestingly enough, Chuck saw me too, seemed to recognize me, and then, after we were introduced through a mutual friend, we went to eat at Pizza Hut.

At Pizza Hut, Chuck ordered steak and potatoes (which he got—who in their right mind is going to tell Chuck Norris that he can’t have steak and potatoes?), and while there, we also had the following conversational exchange:

Chuck: “You don’t smell so fresh buddy.”
Me: “Yeah I know. I’ve been at the beach all day.”

Yeah. Strange.

Coolest Dream Ever

I don’t remember a whole lot of the dream, but I was helping Optimus Prime and the Autobots fend off an attack from the Decepticons, and in the process, I stabbed Megatron in the eye with a lightsaber.

Half of his face melted, he got really mad, and then I woke up.

Transformers and Star Wars combined. I told you it was cool.

Dreaming Of Passports

I planned to spend my Spring Break in 2005 in Honduras, but as I made preparations to go, I discovered that I couldn’t find my passport anywhere.

Eventually, after some expense and quite a bit of stress, I was able to get a new passport in time to make my trip, but ever since, even thinking about passports makes me slightly nervous, and I have to check now and then to make sure that I still know where mine is.

Twice recently, I’ve even dreamed about traveling and not having my passport.

In one dream, I was in Greece, and was supposed to travel with some people from there to Egypt, but at the airport, I suddenly remembered that I had left my passport at home. I had to be left behind, which was disappointing (as was the fact that my wife didn’t choose to stay with me), but I remember that my main reaction was knowing exactly where in my apartment my passport was located and being very confused as to how I had made it all the way to Greece without my passport in the first place.

In the second dream, I think I was in Russia and was returning through a security checkpoint when I realized that, once again, I was without a passport. This was confusing again, because I had somehow managed to pass through the same checkpoint without my passport right before. The prospect of being stranded in Russia was more disconcerting to me than being left in Greece, and I was starting to get upset when, in desperation, I opened my wallet to search for alternate forms of identification.

Somewhat surprisingly, but to my great relief, my expired Harding University ID was good enough, and the Russian officials let me pass on through.

I knew I was holding onto that old ID for a reason.