I suffer from anxiety dreams. It’s nothing new — in fact, I have several of them, that my brain puts up in rotation. (So it doesn’t get bored, I suppose. Why have one neurosis when you can have half a dozen?)

So I had one last night. Again, it was nothing new. I was in college, at the start of the first semester of my senior year. (My brain telling me there’s light at the end of the tunnel of whatever project I’m currently working on?) I’m getting ready to go to class, usually Spanish, and I haven’t been in three weeks, because I can’t find my schedule, and of course I’ve missed the first test and the past two weeks of homework.

But this time, it WAS different. The dream put me at the very beginning of the semester. I had already taken all my finals the previous semester, and I’d done well on them. That stress was behind me, and there was a fresh start ahead. I started to panic mildly about my schedule, then I realized I could easily look up my schedule online. (I guess my brain has FINALLY joined the 21st century.)

I woke up refreshed, not stressed, which was a pleasant change. I got to thinking about the dream, and what it meant. Have I mentioned that I’ve finished a book? 44 Years in Darkness has been in the can for a few weeks, and I’ve even started promoting it. I’ve been sending out press releases and setting up signings and radio interviews. Things are moving along nicely. I guess my brain is finally beginning to realize this — the time for panicking is over. (Now if I can only get NPR to call me…)


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