Last night, I had a dream that I had been sentenced to death. It was this nebulous thing, where sometimes it seemed that I had indeed made some kind of mistake and was paying for it, and sometimes it seemed that I didn't do anything to deserve it. However, it was inevitable. I wasn't in jail or anything, but I knew the day was coming. At the beginning of the dream it was a couple of days away, and by the end of the dream it was going to be happening the next day. I spent some time trying to do things that I wanted to do before I died, and I also spent some time just crying my eyes out. I could pick the time it happened, and so I also spent some time trying to decide when I should have it happen, if it would be better to do it in the morning or to try to get as much time as I could.
Then I woke up and spent most of the day with my butt in my recliner. I stayed up way too late last night, so I ended up napping for about four hours or so in the late afternoon and early evening. And I had a dream where I was in the same situation, sentenced to die. It was almost like a continuation but with the stuff about the death sentence was a little more in the background, although I think it was at least acknowledged once. The details in this one are a bit fuzzy. I was at some kind of store with some family members, and we ran into some people who were friends of my sister growing up, and they were working at the school we used to go to as some kind of volunteers. We had to go, and I needed some kind of box for my purchases, and one of the people (a woman) at the store gave me one. It broke, and I got really upset, crying about it, I think. Another person (a man) from the store was upset at me for breaking it and tried to get me to pay for it. I insisted that I didn't treat it poorly at all, that it was poorly made or something. I got another box, and pretty much just took it, despite some weak protests by the store person. There was also something about a car or the road or something, but that may have been influenced by the fact that I was in the middle of watching Even Cowgirls Get the Blues when I took my nap (it's about hitchhiking, among other things). I think there were also some elements from the game I spent some time playing today, Excelsior Phase One: Lysandia (about which I want to make a post to the Gameshelf blog).
The first dream was pretty disturbing, but the second one was less so, which I guess makes sense since it was more like an aftershock. I have a pretty good idea what this dream is about. Without getting into specifics, I'll just say that sometimes my life seems to be defined by the things that I've quit. When I think about it, I don't like that this seems to be true, but it seems to be a natural instinct in me, to quit things, to move on to something different, because that new thing seems so filled with promise and possibilities compared to the old thing. Right now, I'm at a stage where the old thing is really getting me down, but the new thing hasn't shown up yet. And I'm a little worried that I'll jump at any sufficiently attractive new thing, regardless of whether the new thing will be better in the long run, just because the old thing seems too difficult for me to handle right now. But of course, there's also guilt about leaving the old thing, maybe even more so than usual this time, and also some worry that, for all that's wrong with the old thing, I'll never find a new thing that has the same good qualities as the old thing.