August 10, 2004

Anxiety

So, all night long I had moving dreams. Not moving in the sense of eliciting an emotional response, but in the sense of packing up all my crap and bringing it to a different location. The dream started in an apartment not even remotely like my own previous apartment, but still I was sure it was mine. There were piles of my crap stacked against all the walls, packed haphazardly. I was about to carry some of it out to what I hoped was a waiting car, but realized that I had already turned in my key to the building. So I waited around for someone to show up. I think that eventually someone did, but I can't be sure. Regardless, I ended up outside. Some other residents let me back in and I got back up to my floor only to remember that I had turned in all my keys, and therefore couldn't get to the rest of my stuff. I was stuck. Completely. No hope. It took a good 10 minutes after waking up and staring at the ceiling before I was comfortable looking back on it as just a dream. I got a glass of water and went back to sleep and deeply back into the moving dreams. I don't like this, and I want it to stop.

Posted by liz at 11:14 AM | Comments (1)