August Dreams

I have two types of recurring nightmares that generally start around August 1st. In the first genre (details may vary), my students are belligerent, hairy men in their young 20s. In the second, I am completely unprepared on the first day of school. Last night my dream (which ran on a loop all night long; I woke up sweating five times only dip back into the same scene as soon as I fell into unconsciousness) took place in a strange classroom. Furniture was piled from the floor to the ceiling in all corners. Paper clips were scattered all over the floor. I was dressed in my over alls and t-shirt, hair a mess, running around trying to pick up paper clips. When I looked up at the clock it was 7:15 and I suddenly remembered that it was the first day of school and the students were about to arrive. Shit! The room was a mess, but I also had no idea what I was going to do with the kids once they got there. I had forgotten to plan anything. And the paper clips kept falling back on to the floor.

In my mind, I am more relaxed about the start of this school year than any before. I have a small class of good kids. I have done this before (more or less). I have colleagues who know what they are doing. How can it be? I spent the weekend in southern Vermont swimming and sailing and reading a book for pleasure. I am like a perfectly baked custard: sweet, smooth and ready to impress.

But inside, I am the same nervous wreck. I know very well that this year will not be a success without time, hard work, and a good bit of luck. I know how the roller coaster goes, and in exactly one week, the conductor pulls the switch and we're on our way. I have seven days to get my act together so the show may begin. And apparently, based on my subconscious, I am not convinced that I can pull it off. Only time will tell.