December, 20081 8 9 13 26
I have been asked by a young friend (perhaps in her twenties) to hide a quantity of pot for her, but somehow the possession and transfer is not kept private, as if either she or I had been celebrating having the pot or the prospect of enjoying its effects. Others heard about it. The Feds have gotten wind of it too.
Next, I am at home in my second floor room or apartment and have taken possession of about 10 pounds of pot, in about a shoebox-size container, itself in a blue plastic bag. It is under my bed. I am on the bed, talking by phone with the pot supplier. We are debating what to do next with her pot, to assure it stays safe. But I get the strong impression the Feds themselves are listening in on our conversation too, so I shut up. I am terribly afraid. I put the phone down, get up, and look out the window. I am not certain, but believe the Feds are already here.
I decide to hide the pot in the attic. I am terribly vulnerable with it just under my bed, and there is no other good place to hide it in my place. The room is almost bare except for the bed. I go out onto the 2nd floor landing to see if the coast is clear, so I can hurry up the stairs there and shove it into the dark attic, hopefully after wiping the package free of my fingerprints.
But already coming up the stairs from below are a couple of the Feds. The one evidently in charge, and in the lead, is my old nemesis, Henry Hertz (in reality my last supervisor at the State of Texas case manager job I retired from at the end of 2001). He obviously recognizes me but stays professional, giving no sign he knows me. I gather he does not yet have a warrant to search my rooms for he, his assistant, and the apartment manager stay focused for now on going on up the stairs to the attic. I go back into my room, but am aware now I have very little time left to get rid of my stash of pot.
I am frantically trying to figure how to quickly get rid of it. The only thing I can think of is flushing it down the toilet. I do not want to lose it for my friend, but it would be worse to be caught with it, and Henry Hertz hates me for retiring early with a lot more money than he could hope to amass in a long while, so I need not work further. He will therefore be relentless in trying to catch me with the pot and arrest me.
There is a problem with the toilet solution too. How can I flush so much pot down quickly? It would clog up the plumbing if dumped there too fast, and its residue would stay on the sides of the toilet until cleaned up each time I try to flush it away. My anxiety level is very high.
[Just on my own, I can do a partial interpretation of this dream. At least on a superficial level, it is all about the alimentary canal and my concern with being about 10 pounds overweight, which has resulted in that much of a pot belly. I would very much like to quickly get rid of it, but so far dieting has not been that successful.
In the past couple days, though, I have had diarrhea, so that quite a bit of fecal material has come out in the toilet and been flushed away. In turn, I have lost about 3 pounds in this period and so only have about 7 more to go to feel better about my weight and girth and to be healthier for it.
Even the presence of a couple "Feds" is obviously food related, i.e. after one eats one is "fed."
My last supervisor in the state job, in addition to being a jerk, used to be kind of fat, but was successful in bringing his weight down with a careful diet.
The plastic bag suggests the stomach, which is quite plastic, of course, expanding as needed to accommodate extra food intake. The reference to blue probably does not mean the stomach but rather my mood. The dream is emotionally consistent with reality, for I am at times quite sad and anxious.
The anima or female aspect in the dream, who has given me the pot, has no particular identity in the dream, other than a friend, but it may be significant that in reality my mom also feels she has about 10 pounds of extra fat on her own belly.
Just as with using the banned drug, pot, eating as much food as I would like is very pleasurable but can have harmful effects and, since I am on a diet, is a banned behavior.
The anima character in the dream supposedly is there to show me right feeling, per Jungian dream analysis theory. In this case, she is relatively careless and self-indulgent, in contrast to my ego view, that I must get rid of the pot right away and be concerned lest I am found with it. But it seems bizarre to think right feeling in this instance, dealing with the 10 pounds of extra pot belly, would be to just not worry about it that much and to go ahead and enjoy eating what I want while enjoying or at least indulging my pot (belly). On the other hand, why did she give me the pot to conceal for her if she was that careless? Puzzling.
But the ego is seldom correct. So maybe I am making too much of this business of having some extra weight (?). Doctors would not seem to agree with that and encourage me to lose the extra pounds, though.
The Harry Hertz dream character is professional but also harbors a great deal of anger, even hate, for the ego. Out of fear of him I may be inclined to flush the pot (extra weight) down the toilet, which could be a good thing. But I may also tend to "swallow" my emotions, my own anger, depression, or fear, through eating or otherwise sublimating, suppressing, or repressing such negative emotions. Presumably, the feelings need to be better dealt with, perhaps through meditation, perhaps in other healthy ways.
Acid reflux is somewhat related to having extra weight and, just as with the Feds alarmingly coming up the stairs, when one has this problem residue from eating can come up the esophagus after a meal.
There are at least 3 references to"2" in the dream, suggesting dawning awareness and perhaps transformation: my room is on the second floor; there are two Feds; and my anima character is in her twenties, i.e. 2s x 10. There are also a total of 4 characters in the dream, suggesting possible manifestation in reality.]
12/8/08 - Title: "A Short, Sympathetic Reprieve Before My Long Lonely Journey"
I am outside and on foot at a large university campus in a hot, sunny place. It seems I have finished a long course of study here in the past. I may be contemplating taking more courses, but it seems more likely I am trying to make a major decision about which road to take from here. About half a block ahead, there is a crossroads. One way would seem to turn and circle back to the university campus (or is all already part of it, but in an area where, in the part just ahead, there are no buildings or walks, just flat empty surfaces of short grass and the roadway). The other road heads off and disappears into the distance, also amid flat, short grassy areas with nothing to disrupt one's view as far as can be seen. Or I could just go back the way I had come, to the developed area with large spaciously layed (laid) out campus buildings. There is plenty of activity among the students and staff that way (from which I had come), people engaged in teaching, learning, and administration, but there is nobody at all along the way if I head off on the road that leaves the campus area.
I am disoriented. I cannot recall how I got here. It is as though, I have been placed in this setting with no memory. I figure I must have gone to this university and must be ready now to go on down the lonely road, but if so I must just act the part of the graduate now, having no true memory of it.
I do know that there has been a calamity and many of my financial resources have disappeared, though, as a result of whatever the crisis was, there are now hugely attractive, potentially enriching bargains available. I have some precious reserves left and need, I think, to carefully and patiently employ them with bargain buys. It is a risky, lonely business. One does not know if even these last reserves (around $100,000) will in the end be used up and not be enough or if they will, as seems more likely, allow great profits by investing now in the terribly depressed assets.
I do not turn around to go back the way I had come and also do not yet take the lonely road that disappears off in the distance, but instead I take the way that turns back toward campus after a short curve (to the left).
I go into a big modern campus building there. I (It) looks like a large, glassed in library building, with several stories (four or more). I cannot remember having been here before, but assume I have been, many times. Perhaps because I still seem disoriented, an older (maybe in his 40s) man (and I seem to be fairly young, likely in my 30s), who seems one of those in charge here, asks me if I need or am looking for something. I think I ask for a water fountain or else to see a guidance counselor. (This is not clear.)
Soon after, a woman (probably in her 30s), asks if she can help. I realize she is a counselor, and I say I need to have an appointment. She is available and agrees. I start to go get a drink of water or something, but then realize I did not get her name and do not know exactly where her office is.
I turn back and am looking around. The man seeks to help, but then I spot her and go to her office. It is a modern open cubicle, large and spacious, but not very private. I say I need to get (go) get something to drink and ask if she would like me to bring her back something (to drink). She appreciates the gesture. I see a small unknown (unfamiliar) plant in her cubicle area, on a small corner table, and, in the hearing of both she and the man, I make a slight joke about liking her plant but that it is nothing like some of what I (pretend) I grew (innuendo for pot) when I was a student here.
I expect to go right back to her office once with some water, and to get help from her with figuring out what road to take or else help dealing with my disorientation and loneliness, before taking the long, unfamiliar road ahead.
[I still, at the end of the dream, am feeling some anxiety in my disorientation, lacking a true recollection of the past that led me here, and a lot of loneliness and sadness at the prospect of heading off by myself on the long road ahead.]
Title: "Unresolved Difficulties - No Success"
I am on a university campus, in a series of classes or new job orientations. In either case, I am new to the campus and learning the ropes, getting introductions to the rules and expectations here, for the campus or job as a whole as well as for individual courses or job sites.
But I am encountering major problems. For instance, I am in a seated group or classroom full of students, all sitting in the kind of desk-chairs that one sees often in school, with writing surfaces as well as chairs together as a single unit. However, an instructor or orientation lecturer at the job or workplace insists that due to a change we must get up and move from where we are sitting, each person then taking a new seat (as in the game of musical chairs), this just after writing materials, including yellow writing tablets (legal pads), had been handed out to each of us. In the process of this sudden change, I lose track of my legal pad tablet, which, however, I must have for my next class. It is way over on the other side of the huge campus or work site. I am also to counsel with or interview a mildly retarded young man (with Down's Syndrome, I believe) and would expect to take notes during it on my yellow tablet/legal pad.
Hoping to get back before the class/site lecture at the new location is just about to begin, I jog back to the first class/lecture site to retrieve my tablet, but I cannot tell which was my former desk-chair. The desk-chairs are now occupied by a new set of people awaiting their next class/lecture. I try to look around the people for the missing tablet at the bottom of whichever chair had been mine, from among those on the left side of the large class or lecture room, but cannot sell (see) well enough due to the people sitting there. In any case, they have their own materials there, and I cannot tell what would be mine vs. theirs.
I ask those near where I was, on the left side of the assembled seats-desks to check for an extra tablet, but they either do not understand, will not cooperate, or do not find my tablet separate from what is theirs.
I am getting frantic, knowing by now I shall be late for my next class/lecture. I think of going to a bookstore or office supply store and just buying a tablet, but for some reason this is not a solution either. Perhaps I have no money or it would take too long.
Then, still frantic, aware I am in trouble and having found no remedy, I begin jogging, even faster than before, back to the second class/lecture site though without my tablet, knowing I shall be very late once I get there and still won't have a needed tablet. I am anxious but, even more, overwhelmed with a sense of failure and grief. It is even a physical sensation, as though I cannot keep running and may just collapse or have a heart attack in the midst of this emotional and physical crisis.
12/9/08 - Title: "Prescription for Blue Balls"
A dynamic (vivacious) young (I am younger too - 20s or 30s) woman, attractive but not beautiful, whom I meet is taken with me and eager for us to go to bed. Once there, at my place, a modest apartment, she is pleased to pet and be petted and to see that we clearly turn each other on but, even though we are already nude and passionately stroking one another beneath the covers, she then relaxes and suggests we go out to eat or do something else together rather than climax our affections, evidently interested now in first assuring we have a real and lasting relationship, not just a one-night stand.
Title: "An Imminent Union Approved by Many, even My Comic and Mental Health Shadow Selves"
(Another dream of) An imminent wedding to Frances. This time, a huge host (crowd) is assembling for the occasion at a great 2-3 story building. Dr. B., my favorite consulting psychiatrist from my days as a state case manager, arrives. We greet each other warmly. Robin Williams shows up and is heartily congratulatory after I see him and call to him, yelling "Robin!" most familiarly. I have only some old slacks and a used sport coat with shirt and tie, no tux or true suit, and ask someone, perhaps my mother, if they will look alright. Evidently they will be adequate, in her view, but I have my doubts. I drop something, a pill I am about to take, I think, into some weeds and then cannot find it. I worry that some dog or other creature may find it and eat it, suffering as a result, and warn a man who lives in that place to try to keep animals from sniffing about there unless he finds and disposes of the pill first. Fran appears and is dressed lavishly and looking beautiful in an expensive appearing almost skin tight full-length (neck to foot) gown of glittering white or silver. (As usual in these dreams) I wonder if I can get ready in time, seem to have arrived here late, and am not sure where in the building the ceremony will be, where I can change (exchange clothing) for it, etc.
[In Jungian dream interpretation, at least as practiced here in Austin, weddings are often seen as about integration among the dreamer's diverse selves. They may also foretell a death.]
12/13/08 - Title: "My Brother's Keeper"
I am in a doctor's office, apparently here due to some complication of an unhealthy mental attitude. The exam goes satisfactorily, but I am advised to be more careful. I think maybe I ought to get Fran to help remind me if I am getting off track, but then my (actually deceased) brother, Ralph, is suddenly there. He steps in close to me and suggests, instead of Frances, I use him for that role (of assisting me keep a good attitude, mentally on track). I am impressed at his appearance and offer. I think it a good one. I tell him I shall give it serious consideration. In fact, though I do not accept immediately, I am appreciative and likely will take him up on his suggestion.
12/26/08 - Title: "Puff Turns Five Today"
Puff is sick and has thrown up a yucky brownish pile of wet chewed and partially digested food on the doormat or throw-rug just inside the front door, and she knows she has "done wrong" and so is eager to rush outside. I open the door to let her out but, as I am turning on the front light switch, the porch area light burns out. It is night and mostly dark out there. Puff rushes out meanwhile. But I had forgotten that there were a cat or two out there in our large, fenced in, front yard.
Next, I am reminded of this when I hear the noises of Puff angrily barking and giving chase, plus of one or two cats in a noisy commotion of running to escape, apparently with, between the 2-3 animals, some banging into and knocking over things. Because of the type of fencing around the quite large yard (as though it were really a backyard), the cat(s) is(are) having a hard time getting over or through it and are still in the yard, with Puff thus still quite upset, and so the noisy, upsetting chase commotion is going on and on. Meanwhile, besides this commotion and potential dog-and-cat fight to deal with in the dark, there remain the matters of replacing the burned out light and cleaning up the sick dog vomit. I know I'll get it all sorted eventually but, just now, in the middle of the night, it seems rather overwhelming, a great exasperating nuisance, and extremely tiring.
[Lying awake in the moments after the dream, maybe about the dream and maybe not, it occurred to me that, though I have never been attracted to men, only women, yet I am empathic to a degree somewhat more than most men, and so in this way more like a typical woman, whereas Fran and her mom, Linda, though giving no indication of being attracted sexually to women, only men, nonetheless are somewhat less sensitive, empathic, and emotionally warm than most women, and so in this way more like a typical man. The issue was on my mind since I feel for Fran's sister, Trudy, and what she's going through, with her son having bone cancer, to a greater extent than either Fran or Linda (Fran's and Trudy's sister, or rather their mother) seem to. As a dream character or symbol, Puff, though in reality a female, may be like a male or shadow in this dream, and is outraged at the presence or odd antics of the anima cats.]