BitterSweetLife

I’m one of those people who inadvertently disprove Freudian psychology at every turn. I attack Freud’s most vulnerable juncture, which is incidentally mine as well. In this arena, Freud is somewhat exposed, and I’m entirely unconscious. We’re both at a disadvantage, but I tend to come out on top.

My dreams, when I remember them, never make sense according to Freud’s rubric…or any other system that I’ve come across. However, the pattern is occasionally broken, which is the case with a recurring dream I’ve been having lately.

In this dream, I suddenly come to the realization that I’ve almost missed the entire semester of a crucial class. How it happens is never quite clear. Apparently I skip a class period once or twice as a matter of convenience early on, and then, as a result, completely forget that I’m enrolled in the class. In my dream, the awful realization always dawns a week before finals. You can easily imagine the “anxiety” that results.

Last night, the dream came again, but with a notable wrinkle. Not only did I miss the class, but now it turns out that it would have been one of my favorite classes—Philosophy of Religion. In the past, the class title had always been vague, withheld, no doubt, in order to be dramatically introduced at a later time.

How exactly one forgets, for an entire semester, that one is enrolled in a class one has anticipated since starting school defies logic. That, of course, is part of the dream’s horror.

However, if unconscious academic stress means conscious academic swagger, I’m all for it. I’m not backing down. So get this.

Not only am I aware of all my classes, but I attend them all—huh? huh? And not only do I attend, I take notes!—got that? And beyond notes, I’m keeping up! Exams drop behind me like 2-foot bank shots! Quizzes fall like free throws! I laugh at reading assignments, yo! I deal with papers like deposit slips! Ha ha! How do you like them apples?

Stupid dreams must be dealt with forcefully.