lifeinflux

I woke up this morning around 6 AM from a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad dream.
My stress always manifests itself through my dreams.  If I am feeling unsure, insecure, a little nervous or downright stressed  or scared, I’ll dream about it.   I’ve had enough bad dreams in my life to know and understand most things which are represented in my dreams. Relationship indecision always appears as snakes.    Client issues find me swimming in an ocean filled with sharks, alone with no boat in sight.  Family stress finds me in my childhood home, alone in the dark and trying to find my way out of an ever-growing maze.   Money stress manifests in dreams about a situation where I cannot help or do for Drue.    Freud I am not but since I don’t have a variety of cracked-out dreams – well, I do I’m sure but I never remember them upon waking – it’s pretty easy for me to identify my stress point and deal with it.

This week is the first time I’ve really verbalized to others that I’m striking out on my own.  Sure, I’ve told Jason.  And I’ve told my Mom.   And my Mom freaked a little in that loving, caring “are you NUTS, Jeri?  Yes, you are but I love and will support you in spite of it!” way that she has perfected to an art form.    As I’ve assured her, this does not mean I won’t look for normal, paycheck-providing employment.  First of all, the state of Virginia requires it if I am to indulge in the occasional unemployment hand-out.   Second, you never know when your dream job might pop up and when you might have to search for it.     Which is not to say I’m not wholeheartedly committed to my new venture, just that I feel it is smart to hedge my bets.   You know?

In my dream it was Christmas.   I was in my house but everything was white.  Now, if you know me, you know of my love affair with color.  And if you don’t know me or know that about me, well now you do.   I love color.   No, I love, love, love color.   At one point my home was honey butter and mexican chili powder with popcorn white trim.   Trust me, it looked awesome.  Drue’s room was  a river of amethyst phlox (lavender gray for the uninformed) with white trim and pink and green accents.    Did I mention I love color?  Sadly, since moving to Virginia, I have not found a rental that will allow me to paint to my heart’s content.   This is one of 248 reasons I want to move to San Francisco.   Because I am convinced that landlords in San Francisco are cooler than landlords here which means they will want you to creatively express yourself in your apartment.  Please don’t tell me different.

Anyway, back to my dream.  So I am in my home but everything is white.   It is Christmas.   The house in decorated in white and silver.     Drue is playing with a couple and their children who would not be visiting us, have never visited us and downright do not like me.   Right then and there my subconscious determined this dream was going to be bad.   Jason is around in a nebulous somewhere but I know he’s close by.   I’m trying to make pleasantries with this couple when I realize two things at once.  It is actually Christmas Eve… and I have not bought a single present for Drue.    I’d go off on a tangent now about how I buy Christmas presents starting in August but you’ve been through enough tangents with me, so I’ll skip this one.   In my dream there are no Christmas presents for Drue.   And I have to fix this, immediately for two reasons.  One, Drue is a good kid and everyone knows Santa gives good kids presents!    Two, there is no way in hell I’m not giving my child the most mack daddy presents simply because this couple and their kids are in my house.   This couple will then tell other people who do not like me that I screwed up Christmas, did not provide ample presents to my child and yes, their suspicion over the last decade that I am evil has been confirmed.   Have I mentioned these people do not like me?

So I make up some excuse and prepare to go shopping.  I’ve got my mental list together.   I even remind myself that I forgot to get the Williams Sonoma starter gravy and must hit that store.    Yes, even my dreams have tangents.    I sneak into my room to surreptitiously check my bank account and find I have four dollars and seventy cents left.   Four dollars.   At Christmas.  No presents.   Right.  So I find Jason and we go outside in the cold to discuss this predicament because by golly, no presents at Christmas for Drue is his predicament too.    Jason checks his bank account via iPhone and there is no money there either.   When I ask how that can be, oh you who has a full-time, two-paycheck-a-month providing jobby-job, Jason reminds me that since I cannot get my business off the ground, he has been paying for everything…  for MONTHS!     My heart plummets, I realize I have to go tell my child that Christmas is not happening this year, and I have to do it in front of those horrible, judgmental people who hate me.   I turn, open the door, take a deep breath… and then I woke up.

Logically, I know this cannot occur.   I’ve already bought Drue’s big Christmas present, in fact.   I’ve budgeted properly, and have checked, double checked and triple checked that I am covered for six months.  This means that at the end of January, I’ll either be generating income on my own or my job will be finding a full-time job outside my own venture.     I also cannot imagine myself stressing this much about money given I have a philosophy about money that is simple and has worked for me thus far.   The philosophy is this:  if you work hard, the money will come.  It may not come today but eventually you’ll get yours.     It’s something I believe and I’ve lived my life using this philosophy and have not once been disappointed in my results.   So while it would be easy to write off this dream as me stressing about money, I think it has more to do with my fear of failure.

It is hard to put yourself out there and try something on your own.    Most people, if they do try, venture in with one toe in the water and the rest of their body on land.  I’m not very good at that.  For me, it’s all or nothing.   And for a long time, it’s been a whole lot of nothing.   For a long time, I’ve played it straight and safe and easy, a decision that has left me depressed and miserable.     Fear of failure is a great motivator to do nothing or do something but make it safe.   For years, I’ve hidden behind the excuse that I need to provide a life and a lifestyle for Drue, forgetting that what Drue really wants and needs is a happy Mom who will show her by example that living life passionately is much better than a steady paycheck.  Sure a steady paycheck is nice and a good income and health insurance is mandatory in this day and age.   But I’m lucky that Jason can provide her with health insurance through his job while I dedicate the next six months to my passions.    What are they?  Well, that is another post and soon to come.   For now, I think I’ll accept the occasional bad dream as a way of verbalizing my stress and fear of failure and keep plugging along.   Because if I don’t, I think that regret will haunt me far worse than a bad dream about Christmas presents.