Transplanted Life
Monday, August 22, 2005
I hate dreams
One of the really disconcerting things about my life is dreams. For example, last night I had a "Martin dream" for the first time in months. It's a complete cliché, as I show up for a job interview and I'm suddenly naked, and folks are making jokes about the size of my unit and such. It's wholly banal, except that I'm Martin rather than myself, and I know that the anxiety comes from the fact that I am actually on the road to getting some interviews - I just filled out some incomprehensible paperwork that WPI seems to have created specifically for me to get them to reassign my school records to "Martina Hart", with a different social security number and everything.

The catch, of course, is that they now want to know who's going to be paying my student loans off. Apparently Alexei was relatively good about doing that, and Carter had applied for a retroactive deferral when he took possession of the body and Social Security Number, and then kept paying the bills so that we wouldn't draw attention to ourselves (and because he's actually got a decent job), but now...

Anyway, I digress. I suppose a good shrink who didn't think me a completely delusional loony could break it down to "you're nervous about trying to re-enter the professional work-force and reclaiming parts of your old life", talk me through it, and maybe try to perscribe some drugs that I decline because, really, I don't need anything else messing with how I think.

The really weird thing is that I remembered the dream. Clearly. And it's not the first; it happens all the time. It's been going on for a while, and I just figured, weird life, weird dreams, more staying power. But you'd think by now, when I've kind of settled in, it wouldn't be that way so much, but it is.

I mentioned it to Telly this weekend, and he gave me the weird "you know, you really might just be someone else in my sister's body" look and said I'd always had vivid dreams. He reads the blog and doesn't think it's too strange, because Michelle used to keep a dream journal and rework stuff in it as stories; it's how she got A's in English even though some of her other grades weren't so hot.

That's a kind of nifty and/or cool thing to know and find out about her, although it tends to uncomfortably underscore the fact that I'm dreaming with a different brain. That's really kind of creepy. Also, it's a bit sad that she didn't do very well in school, because she was smart. I don't have any trouble with programming computers or doing math despite the fact that she supposedly didn't do well in those subjects. The raw power was there, in her head, but for whatever reason (and I guess a lot of girls don't like to seem to good at math and science, thinking those are male things), she didn't use it as well as she could have.

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