Sweet Dreams

It seems like I've been having more than my fair share of bizarre dreams lately. Analyzing the one I had the other night, I think it would be fair to say that, while I may have managed to gain control over my stress during the day, it still haunts me at night.

My dream two nights ago began with some kind of meeting with the teachers at my school. None of the people in my dream are my actual coworkers, but I accept them as such.. I must arrive late, because everyone else is already sitting in chairs arranged in a semi-circle. I don't remember if I say something first, but a teacher a few chairs down from me looks at me and says, "You look like your whole body is falling apart." Ouch.

"Fuck you," I respond, standing up and starting to walk away.

There must have been some gasps because I recognize they are shocked by my response. Over my shoulder I call back, "When you say something like that, don't be surprised if you don't get a polite response."

I arrive at my classroom, which looks nothing like my actual classroom, to find a campus supervisor, who looks nothing like any of the actual campus supervisors at my school, watching my kids. I notice he and many of the kids have their masks pulled down below their chins. He speaks to me, but I don't remember what he says. I'm probably too distracted by the maskless faces around me.

Then, "Nick" walks in. He doesn't have a mask at all. When I tell him to put a mask on, he shakes his head. I ask if he has one and explain, like I have so many times in real life, that it's a rule that everyone wears a mask over their nose and mouth on campus. 

It is about this time that I become aware of a woman standing behind him. I recognize her in my dream as his mother although this woman looks nothing like his mom in real life. She, too, is maskless.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, aware that she has recently been sick.

She leans toward me and says quietly, "He has the cough Covid, but he's treating it with cough drops."

She has a big smile and she coyly shrugs her shoulders as if she's just shared the cutest thing ever.

I am horrified.

"He can't be here! If you have symptoms, and a cough is a symptom, you can't come to school," I say.

She doesn't seem to take me seriously and continues to talk about other things. I seem to remember at one point she pulls out a book and starts pointing to different recipes that she has tried. All the while, she is dipping her head and lifting one shoulder, then the other, as she shifts her weight from one side to the other. I begin to wonder if she's on drugs.

"You need to go to the office. Maybe I don't have all the information and they'll know the right questions to ask," I say. I doubt this is true, but I am desperate to get her and her son with the "cough Covid" out of my room.

Sadly, I don't remember what happened after that. And while my husband and I got a good laugh when I shared it with him in the morning, I'm really hoping my return to school after Spring Break bears no resemblance to this crazy scenario created by what must be a deeply troubled subconscious!