Is there such a thing as an ANTI-anxiety dream?

Because if there is, I had it last night. I don’t mean the kind where you wake up feeling all euphoric and energized (those dreams for me usually involve dancing with wild abandon, most often in a church of some sort, to funk music); I mean I had a dream that was pretty much the opposite of the classic anxiety dream where you have to take a test for which you haven’t studied (when I have those dreams, there’s always the added element that I haven’t even attended the class in several weeks and so will have to walk back in there, under the judgmental gaze of the teacher . . . oh yeah, and it’s not just a test, it’s the FINAL).

It wasn’t the exact opposite, where I, like, aced the test with flying colors, got declared an official genius by the teacher, won 100 million bucks and then turned into Jesus and flew away raining Tootsie Rolls onto a cheering crowd, but rather a more realistic yet positive alternative: Not only had I regularly attended the class and read the material, the dream took place not on the day of the final, but rather on the day of the review session for the final (look at me, all up on top of my shit!), during which I found I was easily able to answer most of the review questions (all of which were a matter of identifying quotes from the various reading assignments, one of which was a short story called Fanny Bovary :D). So basically the dream ended with me feeling confident that I could get an A on the test–I’d just need to brush up on a couple of the readings, which I planned to do this coming Sunday.

I must admit, I don’t quite know what to make of it all (I’ve got a touch-base meeting with my boss today, so we’ll see if there was some portentous element to the dream, or if irony rules the day). But if I were starting a band or getting a puppy, I would feel compelled by the Universe to call it “Fanny Bovary”. :wink:

So, Skippy wasn’t in it, huh?

I kid. Put. The ban-stick. Back.

Child, he wasn’t even in the room. :wink:

Yeah, I was busy being Jesus, flying away and throwing Tootsie Rolls to the adoring crowd below.

Conflicting schedules and all.

Ahh… wouldn’t an anti-anxiety dream be a, you know, an enjoyable-type dream? Involving certain activities partaken of with a desirable member of your preferred gender?

If you know what I mean.


If you were man, would Mr. Happy be happy? :stuck_out_tongue:

Oh no! Those aren’t TOOTSIE ROLLS!

And don’t drop your Twix in the pool dear.