I keep having the weirdest dreams! And since I can't seem to sleep beyond 5:45 anymore, I usually have lots of time before daylight to ponder their meaning.
Last night there were two odd ones. In the first, I was 15 minutes late for my ultrasound appointment and they wouldn't see me. Odder than the notion that I would be late for anything at all, let alone NOT ten minutes early, was the fact that as I was walking through Oakland (in the dream) for the appointment, I was drinking a beer! I hid the beer in the trash can in the lobby of the ultrasound place, which was in the back of a book store, then fought with the lady at reception about why I couldn't get my procedure. Open containers, tardiness--it's like the world was inside out and I became some sort of lax rule breaker.
Dream two had me back at church as an acolyte again. This one was just a sort of nostalgic dream that made me remember all the drama of acolyte culture. There you are, 13 years old, standing in front of the whole church with a fire stick. You are terrified, not of messing up and losing God's favor, but of clanking the brass lighter on the brass candlestick such that the hatted old biddies will complain about your lack of skills.
Each week in the basement, as we all donned our gowns and rope belts, our troop leader would report on who had been clanky the week before. I was determined to not be gossiped about. I didn't wear sandals like my sister or jeans like my cousins, so I was already safe in one regard. I wasn't about to lose everything and make a timid noise unto the Lord.
In the dream, everything happened in slow motion and I could actually feel the heat of the candles as I worked painfully slowly to light and extinguish each one in a heavenly, silent way. I was jolted awake from this dream by Corey's broken alarm clock, which flashed 2 am and beeped even though the real time was 5:45 and neither of us needed to be up for another hour or so.
Tonight, I'll probably dream of smashing the alarm clock over his head. Because that might have actually happened...
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2 comments:
That reminds me of the worst night to acolyte... Christmas Eve. Eight hundred candles down the aisles that were nearly impossible to extinguish because the extinguisher bell didn't fit inside the hurricane. This, assuming that you were able to keep the wick lit all the way to the back of the church to light the candles in the first place!
Oh, the memories. Thanks for the flashback!
Yeah, I'm glad my acolyte environment wasn't so gossipy! We were a little more laid back. And I was lucky that I never had to acolyte on Christmas Eve because I was always in the choir! Ha ha.
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