The Recurring Nightmare

I’ll admit, I have a recurring nightmare, but it’s super weird. No, really. I don’t pretend to think I’m not quirky, but this dream… well, the whole thing creeps me out.

In this dream, I’m back in high school. Now, I’ll be honest, the high school years weren’t my best, but they weren’t awful, either. I was happily nerdy, had a core group of friends and a crush on a different boy each week until Junior year. Then I maintained a crush on the same guy for about a year. The whole thing was completely unrequited, and I even knew it at the time. What can I say? Hormones.

In any case, in this dream, I’m back in high school. In Advanced Algebra to be exact, a class I hated with the fire of a thousand suns. No, really. I HATED that class. Every day, I had the poop scared out of me as I walked in that room, because it made me feel stupid. In fact, I thought that if I stayed still and small and quiet, my teacher wouldn’t notice me, which is why the roof leaked on my desk for almost an entire year and I never said anything. (In my defense, it’s really dry here. Not too many rainy days = not too many days of a wet desk)

Anyway, in my dream, the teacher looks at me and asks me a question. I stare back at him, which, honestly, is what I did IRL in that class.

But here’s where it gets weird: I know the answer! I go to tell him, because for a change, I don’t look like a) an idiot or b) a selective mute. Only…nothing comes out.

Everyone is staring at me, but not because of my sudden case of mutism. I’ve also mysteriously turned into a giant cheeseburger.

I’ve got my legs and my arms and my head, and I’m unfortunately wearing parachute pants. Oy. On top of that gloriousness is beefy goodness, topped by American cheese, pickles, onions, lettuce and tomatoes. There’s some ketchup there, too. My head sits atop a sesame seed bun, and I’m wearing the coke bottle glasses I ditched two years before in favor of contact lenses.

I’m pretty certain I look delicious.

I try to stand up, but I can’t. My giant cheeseburger body is stuck in the goddamn desk.

My Algebra teacher (who I won’t name here, in the interest of protecting the innocent) says, “You know, Ms. Connors, there is only one way you can solve your problem.”

I look up, but I can’t answer. After all, I’m a giant hamburger.

“I’ll have to eat you.”

Sweet mother of God, this is SO, SO not in a good way.

I start screaming, but no sound comes out. My classmates (including guy-I-had-a-crush-on) are looking at me hungrily, and again, it’s not in a good way. I am not awesome, I am not prom queen. I am lunch.

My teacher leans in to take a bite, and… I wake up.

Now, I’ve had this dream at least once a year since I was fifteen, which means it’s been awhile. Every time, I wake up a little sweaty and creeped out. Until I remember that I am not in high school anymore (yay!) and I don’t have to take Algebra ever again (double yay!). Then I lay back and wonder: what does this mean?

I can guess what Freud would say, but if you knew my Algebra teacher, you’d realize it’s not that.

Is it some version of the “I haven’t studied for this test” dream? Because I’ve had that one, too, but I don’t think it’s as awful as the “I just turned into a hamburger, and my Algebra teacher is going to eat me” dream.

I would think it’s just a fluke, because, well, I have weird dreams. Except I keep having this dream, and it seems so…so crazy.

What about you? What crazy dreams do you have? Care to share? Come on, I can’t be alone in this… Can I?

(Heh. On a related note, WordPress thinks I need help. Its recommended tag for this post? Psychology.)


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