Saturday, November 15, 2003

I always dream about my job. Most would probably consider that a dreadful nightmare, but I can't help it. I don't think it's due to serious stress from the work, teaching conversational English. Talking to Japanese people who are learning English can be somewhat repetitive, but it's certainly not stressful.

I also talk in my sleep, which can be a nice combination, if you have a chance to observe it. When I first moved to Osaka, I think I woke-up every night for two weeks introducing myself. When I realized what I was doing, I would lie down slowly and finish my introduction, not quite sure if I was really in my bed or just sleeping through a lesson.

Today was unusually memorable. Initially, the sound of my roommate scuffling to the refrigerator roused me from my slumber. After that, I think I woke-up every half-hour or so, staring through the wreckage of a messy bedroom to navigate the time at each interval, exhausted from some brief dream I had just lived through, teeth clenched. I grind my teeth when I sleep. I had no idea what I dreamt about, but I would quickly fade back into my arm, drooling on my pillow, ready to begin another voyage.

Finally, the alarm sounded, signifying the official end of another night of fighting. Between the half-sleep after chucking off the alarm clock and actually getting out of bed, I started a number of short dreams, only the last of which I could remember. I was staring into the muzzle of a revolver, and I could see the silver tip of the bullet, which jarred me loose and got me out of bed. What did that mean? I never stopped to think about it. Needless to say, I didn't really need coffee this morning.

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