Dream-In the Weeds

I can always tell when I am under stress. I can have a very delicate constitution that is easily upset, so I lose sleep first.

It is stressing me out that I have a really bad cold/sore throat that is preventing me from the turbo-speed studying that I usually do. I feel like I am walking in quicksand. I just can't seem to stay focused or retain information like I need to because I have a bad case of "medicine head".

The stuffy nose was keeping me up last night for a long time, so I had time to fret about other stuff, which only makes it less possible to sleep. So at about 3:30 AM I got up and hit the dreaded Afrin nasal spray. I hate using that stuff because the rebound on it is so dreadful. But oh well. I ended up falling asleep around 4 AM.

Then I had stress nightmares. They weren't the "monster chasing me" variety. I dreamed about my relationships, but they were all convoluted and messed up. (More than they are in real life) I dreamed about a guy I am not even in a romantic relationship with, but in the dream he was not being faithful to me and I was confronting him. Stupid.

Then the dream shifted to me having to close down a restaurant for the night and tackle a huge pile of dishes and pots and pans. Obviously, as a former chef, I am very familiar with commercial dishwashers like the one pictured above. I was spraying the pans with that nozzle, I was in a big hurry for some reason, and the dishes just kept piling up.

I was "in the weeds". Any old professional cook will know what that means. I guess I feel in the weeds this week with school. Any time I am having work-related stress, I always default to dreaming about the professional kitchen: the heat, the sharp objects, and the screaming staff.

The good news is that being in the weeds is largely about attitude. You can be the only one behind the line and the tickets can stack up and it can still not be a problem if you are in the right head space. You can still crank it out and even have a little fun doing it. It is like watching a toddler run: they just put their heads down and barrel forward and you are sure they are going to bail, but they don't. Or even of they do, they just get up and keep running, because running is so novel that the fun of it outweighs the danger.

So I am trying to shake it off today and crank it out. I am made of tough stuff, even if I do like to be petted and coddled by people I love. I can live without it, but being cooed over makes me feel better. I know deep down that I will get through it, but I am coming to realize that while I like to be viewed as smart and competent, there is still a little child in me that wants to be babied. That is a little messed up maybe. My grandmother understood it, and even when I was nearly all the way grown she would pull me close and talk softly and pet my head. It was enormously calming. After that, I could tolerate the pep talk and then I would grit my teeth and get back to work.

Hee hee. Maybe I am the opposite of the high-powered CEO who pays a dominatrix to beat him up and call him names and make him feel helpless. I am fierce as a rabid wolverine sometimes, but I still want to be treated as if I were a delicate and rare porcelain doll of inestimable value.

I want to be protected sometimes, because usually I am the one that throws myself like a human shield in front of my friends when there is strife. I usually don't care what happens to me or my heart, because I am so used to feeling bruised. I would almost rather take the hits myself than see someone I care about get hurt. I think I give people permission to use my resources in ways that don't actually benefit me, just to see them a little happier even if it costs me. Hmm. Maybe that isn't too good for me. I guess that I just trust that there will be reciprocity, and there often is.

Note to self: channel energy through myself from above rather than out of my core. Yep. That's it. The universe is infinite and can take the drain better than I can.