15 June 2010
This morning, after my mother left for work without saying good-bye, I went back o sleep for forty-five minutes and had a dream, a terrible, foreboding, foreshadowing dream while sleeping in my old bedroom in the basement:
In the room was a bin teeming with insects, spiders, and snakes. The bin was suddenly open, or I opened it, and all these creatures of Pandora's Box began spilling out. Most noticeable was a black rattler snake with faint yellow bands. I couldn't remember if it was poisonous, but the rattles made me think it was, so recapturing this bugger without getting bit was a priority.
I sort of coaxed the snake into another container, except by time its tail was in the bin, its head was already slithering out another edge of the bucket. It's like an endless loop of ineffective action, like pushing a boulder uphill only to always have it roll back down.
Then my father is in the dream, as if he's Steve Irwin, only he isn't grabbing the snakes head the right way, so I'm deathly worried he's going to be bitten by the beasts huge venomy fangs. The thing even has tail fangs (thanks, Splice). It looks like something bad is about to happen and then...
In what you and I agree is reality, my phone rings. It is work. I am out of sorts, and the signal cuts out because I'm in the basement. I am worried.
My sub, who I'm appreciative of, did not give the handouts I had printed for class today and I didn't inform the division office I wouldn't be in class because I thought I was golden because I had arranged for a sub to cover the start of each class. My students, like the terrors of the box, found their way to the division office, possibly in a panic because I made a big deal out of the work sheet getting completed (which I mostly impressed upon them to scare them into showing up) and then I got that damn call...
I'm guessing I should have canceled class altogether. Or I should have come to New York for a few short days while the entire immediate (and a bunch of the extended) family was gathered for probably the last time in a while. Or I should have found transport back to my car parked in Maryland? But I shouldn't worry too much, should I? I'm leaving there soon, right? A new location, a new job, a new dean?
The only part of the Pandora myth that was not true is that there was no hope in that box. Not really, not now.