42 Dreams of Arizona Bay

My imagination was probably working overtime to fill in the complete void of anything imaginative on TV last night. The worst part of my dream was when one of my front teeth snapped off. I occasionally dream about losing my teeth, usually in a spectacular manner. It probably ties into my guilt of not having seen a dentist in a long time.

I don’t know how it happened, but I was panicked. I had to go to work the next day, and losing your front tooth is pretty obvious. I started trying to find a dentist who would get me in, but it was short notice and late in the day. I was carrying the tooth around and worrying that it would break further. I wondered if the dentist would somehow just be able to glue it back together. It was odd to feel that hole in my mouth; I was embarrassed by it, and it changed the way I talked.
I did wake up from that dream and was very happy to realize that it had been a dream.
Next dream:
I am connected with a group of three or four people who are writing together in a group, supporting each other. We keep sending each other big packets of stuff to read, book-size. Sometimes the material would just be a couple of sheets of paper, more like notes.
I am in physical proximity to one of these writers, kind of reclusive. I can walk across a lawn and open his patio door, which is covered by a sheer curtain. For some reason, this writer is missing, and the rest of the group is worrying about him.
My room (apparently I’m living in a house, but only have a room) has hideous green carpet, like the carpet in my bedroom in Berrien Springs. It’s worn down by many years of use. My room is pretty much empty except for my computer desk and chair. At the same time, it almost feels like I’m living in a bedroom in my Dad’s house in Niles, only it’s not a bedroom that’s there in real life.
I start having problems, and I stop reading all the writing materials my friends have been exchanging. I have a mail box in my room, and the stuff keeps piling up. I feel unable to read any of their stuff, or even to communicate with anybody else. I don’t want to write anymore, and I don’t want to read.
The Christmas decorations are stored either in my mostly empty bedroom or nearby, and there are two Christmas trees to put up this year. In the past, in real life, my family has put up more than one tree. I dreamed that I wanted to put up a tree, but that I didn’t have one. I’m resentful, and watch as they’re being decorated. My brother has got a big box of decorations with fragile ones, and I watch because I’m afraid some are going to get broken. Some of the globes are huge and fragile. I think if there’s not enough ornaments to fill the trees, that we can go to a store and just buy some small, plain ones. Maybe it’s my attachment to old things and family tradition that makes me nervous about the old decorations. And I might point out that for me, there is no family Christmas this year. And I have a tree, but it’s a sad little tree, pre-decorated.
Another part of my dream apparently involves taking some class. Maybe it’s how to serve people in restaurants. In my mail slot (and it seems like I’m working or living in a different place now) I keep finding sheets of paper for appointments to do some part of my practical class work. I always forget to check the slot, though, and almost always miss the serving breakfast portion. I begin to worry that this is going to affect my grade or ability to pass the program. I find the work boring at best, and don’t know why I signed up to do the course in the first place. I’m distracted, and still apathetic. I care on some level, but on the other hand, not enough to make sure that I show up to my appointments.
I meet some people in my program that I haven’t met yet. One is introduced to me, but I already know him, and for some reason, close my eyes as he introduces himself a gain. Yes, I know you, I tell him as I open my eyes.
I haven’t met one of the leaders of the program, and one of my assignments includes finding out what quote the man has taped to his stapler, as part of getting to know people. Another one of my supervisors has begun to notice that I’m not completing some of my tasks, including all of the breakfasts, and is worried about me.
I’m also involved in some plan to stop some evil wizard or dragon. It’s almost like I’m playing a video game. It has shades of Lord of the Rings. There’s a ring, maybe, that I have possession of, that I’m supposed to use to end a battle against evil, once and for all. But the evil slowly creeps into me, makes me apathetic, which is maybe where the whole not wanting to write or read thing comes from. The good wizard in the story realizes that I will no longer be able to help, and is trying to convince me to just give up, that they will figure out another way. They take the ring from me, but I’m too apathetic to notice, though I keep flying in, trying to complete my mission, without realizing thar I no longer can.