Nightmares

I dreamed I was going to grad school.

Okay, now see, that may not sound like such a bad thing in and of itself. And it's not. I'd love to go to grad school. But here's the rub:

I was also:
--Working as a GTA
--Working full time at the job I have now
--In a play
--Running late on a publisher's deadline for a book I was writing
--Solving some mystery I was involved in (yeah, I've been reading too much lately)

Overbooked much? And I had a recruiter from another school keep coming into the bathroom where I was trying to take a shower (it wasn't a pervy thing--he couldn't see me) telling me that I HAD to hurry up and get my application in for his school. He knew it was past the deadline for applications, but he had greenlighted my application, and it was just a formality, and I had a full scholarship, and I had to hurry up and apply. There were hundreds of freshmen just waiting for me to introduce them to English Literature!!

Egads! He wouldn't listen to my pleas that I have no intention whatsoever of teaching English Literature to freshmen (or sophomores or juniors or seniors, for that matter). "But you must teach!" he kept saying. "It's your mission in life! You must teach! You must! You must teach!"

I was really glad to wake up. And not only because I woke up an hour late and dashed out of the house with my pants rolled up to the knees so that I wouldn't drag them in the damp grass and with bare feet because my trouser socks were wet and I had to dry them in the car vent on the way to work (that was Joe's idea--I was going to put them on wet, ugh) and I got to work ten minutes late and rushed into my office with bare feet (thank goodness no one saw me) and put on my dry trouser socks and my too-high-heeled shoes and rolled down my pants and booted up my computer and clocked in 13 minutes late. No. I was glad to wake up so that horrible dream could end!

But then I started thinking.

Okay. No, I'm not going to grad school. I have no desire to, at least not unless/until I can afford to go when I'm not also having to work full-time.

But I do work full-time. And I am in a play. And I hope/plan to be in more plays. And I am writing books. And I am sort of late on a publisher's deadline.

No mysteries to solve, though, not exactly, although there is one that puzzles me and I have no possible way to solve it.

Why, yes, I do have ADD, now that you mention it. Do you think maybe that's partly why I type more than 130 words per minute? I broke the typing speed/accuracy record at one major corporation's personnel office here in the Dallas-Fort Worth area--they were stunned. People who see me typing tend to stare dumbfounded. But that's not what I meant to say. I just tend to overload myself. So was my dream telling me that I need to go to grad school (heaven forbid!)? Was it telling me that I'm pushing my luck, and I need to not add anything else (prolly)? Or was it my conscience pricking at me and telling me that there is something I'm supposed to be doing and I'm doing so many things that I'm missing something?

Or was it just a dumb dream?