You'd think (well, I'D think, anyway) the night after one did a really long run, a person would sleep like a frickin' log. Well, naturally, I never do. I have my scientific wild-assed guesses as to why this is so, the foremost being that my core temperature probably remains elevated for a looooong time after such a run, particularly since it's summer, and that always interferes with my sleeping, but whether that or any other SWAG is correct is irrelevant, since I suspect there's not much (aside from an ice bath - yikes!) I can do about it, and it resolves after a day, anyway.
See? Lack of sleep, amazing run-on sentence. So why am I blogging? Because I had a pretty wacky dream last night, and wanted to write it down somewhere, and I don't keep a dream log (as I don't think dreams "mean" anything other than that your brain is playing with shit that's lying around in there) and writing this down on some random scrap of paper means I'll have another random scrap of paper lying around somewhere.
The dream: I'm taking some kind of college course. It's a big class, maybe 50 people, and it's in a bit of an unconventional room. Not everyone has a regular desk; some people are using a cafeteria-style table. The teacher is lecturing about something or other, and I'm following along in my text book and taking notes. I can't really see the book (now or at any other point in the dream) or my notes. There's a group of four guys, some older, some younger, in the back, not paying particular attention. This is getting on my nerves, as I can't hear the lecture. Yet somehow I am also friends with these guys, and am semi-included in the joking, even if I am ignoring them. We take some kind of quiz, essay style, with these guys chatting all along.
Suddenly the teacher is gone, and I am at the front of the room, teaching the class, although I'm still a student, not the professor. There is a panel of judges off to the side. The four guys continue to try to make trouble, and I'm getting pretty fed up. The rest of the class is perfectly attentive. In an impulsive move, I excuse the four from class. They will not get to take the second half of the quiz, which I am to administer. Everyone else claps. I wonder how the hell I thought I was within my rights to do that, but nonetheless, nobody on the judging panel stops me. I ask one of them, who looks like Susie Fogelson from the Food Network, what is on the second half of the quiz, and she says something along the lines of, "I don't know, you tell me." So I make something up. After class I meet up with a friend I haven't seen in ages; he's moving to Pittsburgh so I start taking to him about the city.
And then I wake up. The only thing I remember about the class I was teaching is the phrase "Daedalus effect," an actual term that still tells me nothing about the subject matter, other than to suggest there was some science aspect.
I suppose if I were looking for deep meaning or a sign in that dream, I would take it as telling me I should become a teacher. In fact, I think it all had much more to do with the fact that I met with sensei yesterday and discussed the dojo schedule, and as the conversation evolved, came up with the idea of a student teacher program, which we brainstormed at some length. Also, the Phils just finished a series with Pittsburgh yesterday. Still, it was a fun dream to remember.
Now if I could just figure out the genesis of the one where my sister had a third baby, this one improbably named Leander. (Sis has thus far stuck with major Biblical names.)
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