loopy dreams

I’ve been having another spate of the recurring school dream. The one where i am given a teaching timetable, consulted tenderly by the bosses, soon-to-be-colleagues, students and friends, about the coming term. They are enthusiastic about working with me. They want me and they want me to be happy too – is my classroom alright? Do i want them to change the pre-dawn start? What else can they do for me? All of them. Even the now-haloed SMT. So you can tell right from the get-go that there must be some seriously deluded unconscious thinking going on. Or my sarcasm finally imploded. Or else my celestials really don't "get" how teaching broke me in the first place; how demons wear the mask of leadership then guide stars to ruin on the rocks of OFSTED, ably assisted by a death-threatening ex, an impossible "other" relationship, a huge undiagnosed gallstone, actual deaths (two of those) and a semi-holy amount of stuff i could not even begin to share on screen, though i am oddly tempted at times.

Perhaps i need exorcism ... the past just won't let go. Some might say it's me who can't let go, but i no longer care to argue the difference. Or take responsibility for the shadows others have bled into me. Nor am i declaring it's ok to be a victim either. I'd just like all this "stuff" erased, cleanly and thoroughly, from Now *bleh* - and if you tell me that's what life is all about, i may have to scream as i incinerate this hell of a dream.

I know that who i am is because of all "that" ... but sometimes i'd like to dream of the One, you know the star-cross'd romance that ended up on the cutting room floor time and time again, the One i would cheerfully reincarnate to find but this time for a happy ending ... and bam! Here i am - their smiles patiently, perfectly intact while i seem to be on the teaching team ... again. Nooo!

So, mid-dream-loop, i find my voice, point out that teaching – and the rest – all but killed me in waking life; i am retired, out of it, would lose my small but essential pension if i was on the payroll, it unhinged me last time anyhow so why would i want to do it again, exactly? They gaze at me through blissed-out calm while loving hearts all but pop night's air. It dreamily occurs to me that i've been on their etheric payroll for some time already. omg! Incarceration looms for sure - how long have i been "here" - and why is it that i'm the only one climbing the walls with worry? Sometimes it’s really good to wake up, y’know?