Early this morning in that space between the end of the dream and the reality of the clock glaring its get-up message at me, I was overwhelmed with a sense of dread. Usually, I make myself conclude the dream, resolve the story line. But today . . . I realized I just didn't care.
The locale of my slumber-induced experience was something like a seminary classroom. I did mention this was a nightmare, right? I was taking over for a professor and using Powerpoint to teach the class, except the presentation was giving me trouble. So much trouble, in fact, that I had lost my place and was scrambling to multi-task -- fix the slide order issue and keep the class engaged in conversation.
But mostly, I was filling time. I knew it and soon enough they did too.
Some distant part of me wanted to give those preacher boys their money's worth, challenge them with the news of the changing environment they were planning on serving. But mostly, I wanted the commitment to end, the class to be over, and me to be free.
Can you say "foreshadowing"?
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