I have two dreams that come up with alarming frequency:
The first is that I’m driving, and I can’t break in time to make the light. I hit the breaks, but they just don’t work. Fortunately, I make it through the intersection without getting hit.
The second is about this guy I went to high school with. We’re Facebook friends now, but we never interacted with each other except for the fact that we had all of our classes together. You know how high school is. Anyway, this guy was really good at tests. Standardized, essay form, whatever. Now at life, he seems to be doing well. Or at least, he’s followed a defined road to success since the day he graduated high school, and now he’s successful.
A friend—one Facebook suggests I reconnect with, but I actually travel with and see regularly—says my dreams are like parodies. I hate driving and sometimes my life feels out of control. And as for the Subconscious Guest Star: I’m jealous that he seems, at least from the tagged photos, so certain of his straight path.
I miss high school math more than I thought I would. I was all right at math—not good enough to do anything with it and certainly worse than my Subconscious Guest Star—but good enough that I understood how proportions and angles work. Lately, I’ve been helping high school kids with math. There’s a real part of me that wants to steal their textbook, and do some geometry whenever I get stressed out. I guess I’ll have to settle for the math sections in Ten Real SATS.