Suitcase

I don't know exactly what to make of dreams. I don't believe the theory that they are simply the result of a random firing of neurons in the brain. If that were the case, why would people have recurring dreams? What are the odds of the same exact pattern of neurons randomly firing twice in a lifetime, much less dozens of times?
At the same time, I don't necessarily believe that we need to find some deep meaning in all of our dreams. I mean, what is my lactose-intolerant friend Brandon supposed to make of the dream he has every time he consumes dairy products that involves Matthew McConaughey as a drunk, belligerent neighbor who trashes Brandon's apartment, breaks his plasma TV, and then attempts to replace everything with Legos? Surely there is absolutely no deep meaning he's supposed to take from that dream and it's just the milk allergy talking.
But sometimes I can't help wondering what is going on in my subconscience. I'm fascinated by dreams and sometimes go through phases where I try to record everything I can remember about mine. I don't know why I do this, except that I have a vague idea that it will help me to be a more creative, inspired person. Uh, yeah. Anyway, I recently started keeping a dream journal again and this morning I discovered that every single dream I've remembered so far in 2007 has had something to do with packing and hotel rooms. Every single one. What am I supposed to make of that, a dozen dreams about suitcases and transiency?
I normally love hotels, but these are not relaxing dreams, they've mostly been unsettling and vaguely frightening at best (I opened the door to my hotel room and found a white tiger lurking inside, for example) and frantic at worst (throwing cans of tuna fish into a suitcase as everyone in my family yells at me to hurry up or we'll miss our plane).
It seems too early for my brain to already be freaking out about the idea of moving in May, although I guess I wouldn't put that past me considering how much I despise moving. And I don't know what else these dreams could be trying to tell me, other than I'm nervous about not knowing where I'll be in the fall and I'm scared that I'm not at all prepared for whatever comes next. But I already know that.
I suppose I should just be grateful that I'm no longer having constant dreams about being pregnant and in painful labor, which was my recurring dream through most of my junior and senior years of college. That dream SUCKED.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should let you know I got my first Ph.D. rejection letter today. It doesn't seem to be bothering me at this point, probably because I knew from the start that I was reaching out of my league in applying to this school in the first place so I'm not surprised. I'm not disheartened yet, I still have five chances. Five chances where each school is only accepting 2-3 people, but still, five chances. And I still feel positive that I will get into a Ph.D. program eventually, it might just take a few years. I keep trying to tell myself that whatever happens now is the "right" thing for me, it's just scary right now, not knowing what to do.

At the very least I'll have my MA by the end of this year. Actually working on my thesis tonight would help with that particular goal.