No Sleep and Yet I Dream

No sleep. One too many in my bed, that's why. They all roll over and one falls out. Awkward sleep. Stilted. Agitated. Uncomfortable. Too many in my bed. You ask me to hold on and I ask you to let go...

And yet, I must have slept some during my fitful night, because I did dream again. It's been so long and they seem so rare these days. But last night I did actually dream, even with the crowd in my bed.

I was at a university campus, one that I didn't recognize, like I was the new kid in the school... just like every time I was the new kid in a school when I was growing up. But this was a university, not a school.

I was sent to a room, a science lab-slash-office. I had missed the previous 6 weeks of classes and I was told to report to this room in order to keep my student status.

There were a handful of others there, all much younger than myself, all busily attending to various experiments and making up for their missed work. No one told me what I was supposed to do, so I sat down on a stool.

After a while of watching the students, they all looked at me and one asked what the next lesson would be. "Um, I'm not sure. What did the instructor say?" They all looked at me very puzzled and one asked, "But you're the instructor, aren't you?"

"I guess I am," I said. "But I think I'm only the TA and I haven't been given any idea of what you're working on right now. What would you like to do next?"

They began to mutter things in another language, seemed Eastern European of some sort. Then another instructor walked in and said to me, "We're late. You need to be there by now, you know." I had no idea what he meant.

A girl walked up to me and said she knew where I needed to be. She reminded me of myself 15 years ago... all possibility and bright and full of life, yet extremely calm as if she were in no hurry to make any rash decisions... very sure of herself. She told me that she could drive me to the place.

We got in her car and it was a 1970s Saab... the kind that I'd always wanted when I was her age. Was she the me whom I was supposed to be? The me I could have been? She drove me just 2 blocks and dropped me off at a building that seemed to be a theater and told me to go in, there'd be a person inside who'd tell me what I needed to do there.

I got out and closed the door. She reached over and rolled down the window and said, "Find the Aussie guy. He can help you." And with that, she drove off into traffic and I proceeded towards the large golden doors of the gleaming white building. I had to squint as the sun was hitting the front of the building and the brightness was blinding me.

When I got inside, it was very dark and it took me a while for my eyes to adjust. No one was there to guide me. Everyone was wearing name tags that identified them as instructors and teaching assistants. I realized that I'd left my tag back in the lab/office and asked if there was a chance to go back. No, no one was allowed to leave out of respect for the guest of honor.

Instead, the others pointed me towards a podium at the back of the theater audience. I searched through the piles and mine wasn't there. Then I saw another scholar friend of mine there... he was waiving me over to some seats.

I went over and joined him and that's when I noticed that we were in a truly big audience, the size of the Fox Theater, packed full for a funeral. There was a casket on the stage, closed. I couldn't tell who was inside and I didn't ask.

I saw one of my former thesis advisors there. He was preparing a speech about the deceased and didn't notice me saying hello to him. In the meantime, there was a band performing at the front of the stage. I realized that the band was Animal Collective and they were performing Tom Waits songs for some reason. It was actually quite good, though they had put their own spin on all of the tunes.

I could also see that there were several other acts and speakers waiting in the wings for their turns on the stage to perform and to eulogize.

My friend was thoroughly enjoying the show and I noticed that he had even gotten himself a drink, so I turned to see where I might find the bar. Not spotting one in my sights, I asked my friend for help and he directed me past the podium and down a hallway. The hallway opened up to a statuary room... no bar. I must have taken the wrong turn.

By the time that I walked back to the funeral, everyone had gone. I never did find out what or who was in the casket. That's okay. I know why I was there and it was only important that I had been able to see.

There was no Australian man in the dream to help me, but one of the messages that I received last week was from someone called "aussieone" something-or-other. Perhaps that's what she meant?