b1-66er:
[Dream recorded 11:45 yesterday]
third sleep dream.
<I'm laying on my back in bed with my knees bent and crossed. Wearing boxer briefs and a long sleeve hunter orange poly shirt.
The room's a TINY bit bigger than IRL and considerably brighter (as if it was lit by a skylight or something.)
D4rw1n walks in! He's wearing a t-shirt, shorts and tennis shoes with no sox.
He's NOT wearing glasses.
My shirt is casting a bit of an orange glow on the white walls of the room (as well as him).>
"Oh hey, D4rw1n! It's good to see you."
<He sits on the edge of the bed. There's no tellin' where this conversation's going to go.>
He speaks. "Hey.
Why do you say you don't know anything?"
<Right into business here, I see.>
"Uh, I'm not aware that I do. Do I say that? It seems disingenuous if I do. I mean, I don't think of myself as 'The Smart Guy' or 'The dumb guy.' Not really."
<Two things jump to my mind immediately:
1. Is he confusing my impression of being self-smart with the fact that I'm under-read?
2. Why in the world would he come all the way here, from wherever the hell, to ask me that question?
The dream isn't anxiety producing at all. It just feels strange.>
[EOD]
D4rw1n <responding today>: Processing a b1-66er dream about me-- surprisingly daunting
One thing that springs to mind is that when I worked at the NU library as a work study job (free photocopying of debate research materials saved me many thousands of $$$) my boss was a prim-looking older British lady who didn't look scary at all. But whenever somebody would express an opinion she'd say
"but dear, you don't know fuck-all about it"
Ms. D4 loves that story. So nowadays whenever Ms. D or I feel we've gotten out on a limb in an argument, one of us will say, "well, I know what I know, and I know what I don't know. And I don't know fuck-all"
