I promised a pic of my new glasses when they came in and here it is! I was hoping the jaunty angle would show the fact that, while the outside of the frames are black, the edges and inside are hot pink! Too cute! But it didn't really show up in the photo. And I colored my hair last night so I'm not embarrassed to be seen in these parts.
I like them. :)
Do you have anxiety dreams? You know, the kind where you realize that you've had to return to school and pass an exam, but you didn't know about it until the day of the exam and there's no way you can pass it and you run around freaking out trying to find a solution to this improbably dilemma? Or you find that you've come to work and forgotten most of your clothing so you try in vain to find some way to get home with no one seeing you? Yeah, those.
I've had many anxiety dreams over the years and they're usually something like what I described above. But now I have a new brand of anxiety dream. I've named them the "You're On!" dreams. Let me explain.
Last spring, I performed in a musical at my alma mater, Columbia College. It was a three-woman show called Honky Tonk Angels and it was great fun. We put it together in a week, though, so it was a particularly fast-paced, stressful kind of fun. We only had three performances and then it was over. After so much complete immersion, it was just gone. I like to think that maybe this is why it has begun cropping up in my nocturnal life.
Tuesday night (the day after that big exam), I had my fourth "You're On!" dream since I did the musical. They're all slightly different, but the general premise is the same: We're doing the musical again. Right now. Don't remember all your lines? Don't remember the words to all your songs? Yeah, you're totally screwed because you're going on right now. And the first lines of the entire production are mine. And I can't remember them for the life of me. And I keep hoping and praying that there's some sort of theater magic which will kick in and I will suddenly remember everything right when I need to and that it will be a bit like riding a bike or driving a stick shift. That maybe, maybe I have a deep, hidden Honky Tonk Angels Autopilot tucked away in me somewhere. So far, I haven't gotten to find out, because the dreams never get that far. They focus on the frenzy before I actually hit that stage; I wake up before I actually get there.
We could analyze these within an inch of their lives, talk about how I stress myself with procrastination and how this is my mind's way of telling me to stop it or it's way of dealing with the unnecessary anxiety I feed it with my bad habits. But let's not. Because, "Duh!" I torture my brain and it tortures me back. Let's just commiserate about how we all do this to ourselves and the fun and interesting forms these dreams take.