Dreams – 1/10 (and Death Dreams)

1/10/25: I was watching a football game on TV. There was artificial turf. The team on the left in blue started a play and one of the linemen crushed his block and kept on running downfield, except the play was over. As he ran, he glowed white like a ghost on the TV screen. Someone came off the sidelines and stopped him from continuing on–and then I was in the game and it was being played in my mom’s front room which was big enough to play football in. I was talking to the QB and told him “I missed the play call in the huddle.” He said, “So did I, so we’ll wing it.” The O-Line and D-Line were a bunch of stacked pillows and I knew if the QB held his fist out, we were going to reverse the direction of the play from where everyone thought it would go.

1/10/24: I was driving on a road and wound up in a parking lot behind a Menard’s at which point everything turned to gravel. I had to maneuver past pillars holding the building up while also trying not to hit pedestrians. When I finally got around the building, I was suddenly on foot and running away from something in/on/near the building, following two women out into a big open area. The open area turned out to be a frozen lake but I didn’t remember when it started to get cold and wondered if I would fall through–and then I realized there was no way off the lake until I reached mountains on the far end. This made me sad until I remembered my friends (whose names I don’t remember–or never knew in the dream) who ran across Lake Michigan from Chicago to Michigan. Remembering them made me feel better.

1/10/23 #1: I was in a big living room with big windows and it was attached to a big enclosed porch and I knew this was the “Dietz Ancestral Home”. It was all white/black/gray and lights were faux-lanterns. There were boys behind me setting up boardgames and Mike was with them–except he was 12 and they were all 13-14. They wanted me to play and I said no–but that I’d seen the game before…they said I should because they stole it from me, then they started arguing over who had to teach Mike the rules.

1/10/23 #2: I was standing outside Walcott High School with the principal. He was showing me all the catalogs he ordered from and he had so many he’d ordered shelves to put the catalogs on attached to his van which was his office. I went inside to the bathroom and the principal there introduced me to “Gary, the softball coach” who wanted to shake hands–but I was peeing. Then I was sitting in a classroom where they were using games to go over the election of 1860. They had a boardgame that was really old with huge fabric maps–some had rotted away…and when they were done they folded them back up and put them in a storage room. They sat down to discuss the candidates they were playing–but they used phrases like “first best friend” that you’d use on a playground. The teacher looked at me and I saw I was riffle-shuffling a wad of money in my hands–that somehow was infinitely shuffling, then I realized that the storage room was like the root cellar in my mom’s house, that the classroom had wood panels, and that the school’s designer was the same one who built our house in Davenport.

1/10/22 #1:

I was in the Bettendorf mansion and I thought we were playing hide and seek which was okay because I was a teenager and there were cute girls. Then it turned out we were all hiding from a serial killer. The killer would come into rooms but he wouldn’t look in closets or anything–he’d just randomly shoot a shotgun into things and wait to see if he heard screams before moving on to the next room. The phone was dead so some kids were trying to figure out how to communicate with police via semaphore.

1/10/22 #2:I was laying on the couch in my (real life) in-laws basement. I was there with my wife and daughter (not real life). Sitting next to me on the floor was Albert Pujols looking through LP records. He was sad. I decided to ask why. It turns out my daughter was actually his daughter because my wife was his second wife but his daughter wouldn’t talk to him because she liked me more. I thought I could help so I went to the kitchen where my wife was watching a really skinny, REALLY old lady fix a burner on the stove. I mentioned everything to her but she didn’t say anything. I went to the bathroom (which was my mom’s upstairs bathroom in Davenport) but there wasn’t a toilet in it. I came out and Julie was there and she grabbed my shoulders and said, “You need a reset.”

As good a place as any to put there. I’ve died three times in dreams. You don’t die in real life if you die in a dream. The first time was a week before Julie realized she was pregnant with Erick. The second she was a couple weeks from finding out she was pregnant with Brigitte. The third–no pregnancy….or perhaps there was and her body prevented it from going on for some reason???

Spring 1999: I was sore so I went to get a massage. It wound up being a scantily clad nurse. It was definitely one of those Showtime late-night movie massages. It felt good. She went to grab a needle to give me an injection and I pushed it away. She massaged me again and then tried to inject me a second time. I pushed her arm away again. She massaged me a little more and grabbed the syringe, but this time she raised it over her head and with both hands down drove the giant needle down through my sternum and killed me. –I woke up with a killer pain in my sternum.

Summer 1996: I was at my sister’s house but it had no walls–it was like the buildings in the Star Trek OK Corral episode. I was trying to work on something but my sister was in the next room playing music on a massive pipe organ. It was distracting. I went in to ask her if she could play softer but instead I told her to stop smoking. It smelled bad and inhaling it would kill me. She smiled, put out her cigarette, stood, and then did a Bruce-Lee style spinning kick into my sternum that sent me flying–down a flight of stairs into her basement. I lay there trying to breathe and realized my ribs were broken and I was paralyzed. She walked downstairs, held my cheeks in her hands, and then snapped my neck,

December 1993-January 1994: I was part of a SWAT team going to bust a drug ring at a crack house. It was a long ride in the back of a dark van. Eventually the door opened and the team jumped out, rushing the place. I got out and realized the crack house was my grandparents’ house! My grandmother was standing at the foot of the driveway. I slung my rifle over my shoulder and she smiled at me. I went to give her a hug and she drew a pistol and put a bullet between my eyes. I fell dead. I then watched as I lay on the concrete as they put her and my grandfather in police cars and took them away. The dream ended when they zipped the bodybag up over my head.