Our local meteorologists seem a little lost lately. A few weeks ago, they predicted a 4-day stretch of solid rain. I think we saw a few sprinkles one day. The other day, the forecast insisted it was clear as it was plainly raining.
On Saturday, it was supposed to be 90 degrees, with a heat index that made it feel like 100. It ended up being 75/80 and overcast.
Aka perfect weather for a family stroll downtown.
(Yes, that is a strange Bavarian-looking corner building and a sign that says WIGS with an arrow on it. Welcome to my town.)
I hadn’t been on this street—my old college stomping grounds—in what felt like forever, so it was nice to walk around and bask in the nostalgia. It also turned me into an obnoxious tourist/resentful alumni, yelling out the name of every other business I didn’t recognize in total horror.
I mean…the PITA PIT?? How long has that been there??
And what’s that giant domed building??
Oh, right. I did know about that one.
There were also, not one, but TWO frozen yogurt shops (on one street). College kids are so spoiled these days.
So Brent and I did the only reasonable thing: walked into one of the shops, purchased $15 of frozen yogurt, and walked out (feeling slightly shameful that it had come to that amount).
This kept us full for so long, we didn’t get around to making dinner until almost 9 PM. We felt super sophisticated eating that late.
On the menu: STEAK.
Thanks to Brent’s newfangled thermometer contraption, he was able to grill these babies to a perfect medium rare (for me) and medium (for him).
The rest of the weekend was pretty uneventful. Volunteering at church, a walk with Mason, a TV show with Brent (we just started watching Graceland and are liking it so far).
Then, last night, I had a dream. I have a version of this same dream about once a month, so it’s starting to feel kind of significant.
In high school, I was big into drama, and I participated in all the plays and musicals. So in these dreams, I’m back in high school, it’s the opening night of some play, and I don’t know any of my lines. I don’t even know what play it is.
But what’s interesting to me is that the focus of the dream is never on the fact that I don’t know my lines. I don’t stop to wonder why I didn’t bother learning them, or how I made it this far through rehearsals without doing my homework.
All I’m ever thinking is: How can I hide this from everyone?
In last night’s dream, I was frantically skimming through the script backstage, trying to pick out every time my character spoke. On stage, in one scene, everyone turned and looked at me, and I just said what seemed most logical given the conversation. (Somehow, it worked.)
But it never occurred to me to tell anyone what was going on (I hit my head that day??) or to ask for help. Like I could dive into the whole thing blind, and no one would notice the difference.
I’m sure lots of people have recurring dreams about horrifying high school predicaments. High school is just kind of a horrifying time, and it sticks with us.
It seems appropriate, though, that this is my dream. In retrospect, there were so many times in high school when I could have benefited hugely from asking for help, but for whatever reason, the approach of trying to just cover up my shortcomings appealed to me more. I remember having meltdowns over stupid things that could have been cleared up easily through a simple conversation with the right person.
Over the years, I’ve gotten much better at the admitting my failures/asking for help shtick, but it might never be a real strength of mine.
I wonder, too, what my life would be like if I was able to go back and ask for help every time I needed it.
Do you have recurring dreams?
Are you good at asking for help when you need it?