I don't often get opportunity to dream these days, as I am waking to an alarm clock and that stupid klaxon always obliterates my dream memories as suddenly as it ends them. But this morning...
Even in the dreams in which I am me I don't seem to be entirely myself. This morning (08/07/2003) as I dozed I imagined myself to be a budding astronaut, or studying to become one. My recollection begins with me at home, although it was no house I'd ever lived in or even seen.
It wasn't too bad a house, if not for being very cluttered and not particularly big. I saw a good deal of it as I scrambled around--you see, I was late for space training or the mission--looking for my water bottle or some other trivial thing. My family (my actual family for once, including my grandparents) looked on as I frantically ransacked. Eventually I found the bottle, or gave up, and hopped in the car so my mom could drive me to where I needed to be. I can't say why I didn't drive myself but I know that it was as frustrating as being driven while in a hurry in real life. I was rather quite rude to my mom (who was driving quickly but not fast enough for my tastes) and when it was apparent that I hadn't packed everything needed, she refused to turn around and take me back. A change of clothes was what was missing, or something else rather important, so mom decided to hand me off to my dad, who happened to be out with my older sister in a pickup truck nearby.
They had been at the house, I thought, so why hadn't I driven with them instead? They had gotten ahead of my harried mom and me somehow. This I didn't ponder, nor the fact that apparently my older sister also could not drive herself.
I hopped in the pickup with them and we headed back toward the house... along some dirt path. Why we didn't turn around and take the same streets as my mom did wasn't explained despite my asking many times. It would seem that I wasn't the most courteous passenger to anybody this morning.
Then one of those abrupt shifts that my dreams often have happened, and we (my dad, sister and me) were instead walking back home. Now I'm not usually a fan of walking over driving, and can't find a remember a good reason to be hoofing it now, although the scenery was breathtaking. Home apparently was somewhere in Appalachia, as we were hiking along a wide river, with far shores covered with a blanket of lush deciduous trees. The sun shone brightly, and I almost forgot about going home, let alone my ultimate destination of space. Forget I did not, and I resumed my rush to get home along the trail.
And then, just as I was making progress, in front of me I saw a strange structure: a cross between a bridge and a boardwalk, about ten feet wide and several stories tall, built of lumber and unfinished. Parts of it were floating and parts were suspended from the trees above, and in places it narrowed to a single split trunk.
Evidently this was the action set piece of the dream, as I needed to get across all of this somehow. At first it was easy, but as soon as I got to said single log it fell into the river below, setting off a chain reaction of planks falling ending with me in the water below the walkway, and a whole section of it was falling toward me. Somehow I got my legs out of the water and caught the falling logs with my feet (it must've been a shallow river as I was laying on my back in it, legs up and head above water). Relieved not to have been crushed, I turned around and was splashing ahead, trying to get back on the walkway. Everytime I grabbed up at some planks (it really resembled a boardwalk or pier now) they would snap loudly in my hands and I would plunge back into the river.
And then I woke up, agitated that I really wasn't going to make it to space.