Dream of: 18 June 2005 "Fire-Breathing Dragon"

I was sitting in an optometrist's office when my wife Carolina (who was about 25 years old and who greatly resembled my old girlfriend, Birdie) stepped up to me and handed me a pair of eyeglasses which she was holding in her hand. She told me to try them on and I did so. The glasses had slight brown frames. I stood up in front of a mirror and discovered I liked the glasses. They were as good or better than my old glasses, which had turned rather cruddy lately. I was surprised Carolina had been able to find glasses which worked so well for me. Since I hadn't yet had my eyes examined, however, I was concerned these glass might not be exactly correct. I asked Carolina how much the glass cost and she replied "$69."

That sounded like a good deal to me, but I thought I still needed to get my eyes examined. I recalled the last time my eyes had been examined, the optometrist had given me a prescription form. I couldn't remember exactly the numbers on the form (something like "+1.5" or "-1.5"), but I knew I still had the form at home. Perhaps I could simply use that form to determine which glasses I needed without having my eyes examined again. I knew reading-glasses were sometimes sold in stores, but I had never been able to find the kind of glasses I needed in stores. Perhaps now, however, I could find the glasses I needed there in that office without going through an exam. I asked Carolina if more glasses were available and she said yes. She handed me a second pair.

Other people were also sitting around in the waiting room. Suddenly the optometrist (all dressed in white) stepped in. He was about 35 years old. He stood right next to me, about a half meter taller than I. When I looked up at his face, he began talking about how he wasn't taking on any new customers right now, and then he launched into a speech about how he was going to remodel his office. None of that interested me in the least. Finally he noticed the glasses and he began complaining that we weren't allowed to simply pick up glasses like that and try them on. He said we would have to put the glasses back and he began leading Carolina and me back through the main office. I was still carrying the two pairs of glasses which Carolina had given me.

The doctor was obviously angry. As we walked past the main desk, he testily commented to one of his assistants that he was missing his breakfast because he had to deal with us. He led us through a door to some winding concrete stairs (pressed between concrete walls) which led down to a basement. He pointed the way down the stairs and then got behind me as I descended the stairs. On the way down, when he poked his index finger into my back, I told him I wasn't a little child to be pushed around like that. I pulled his finger away and switched places with him, poking my finger into his back as he descended the stairs in front of me. I was beginning to dislike this doctor.

At the bottom of the stairs we entered a big empty room. Along one wall were three doors. The doctor walked over to one door which he opened. On the other side was a second small room. I looked inside, but I couldn't see anything. It looked more like a big closet with white concrete walls on which the paint was corroding. The doctor said something about an underground passageway through there.

The whole situation began to bother me. I had expected to find a rack with eyeglasses down there so I could put the glasses back on it. Instead, this was starting to look spooky. I turned to Carolina and told her we were getting out of there. It looked as if she were already headed toward the stairs.

Suddenly I dropped one pair of glasses I was carrying. I bent over to look for it. But I was thinking I should just forget about the glasses and get out of there as fast as I could. I dashed toward the stairs and headed up.

As I ascended, I began thinking and my imagination seemed to suddenly become very vivid. I thought about the doctor and how he drearily came to work and did the same thing every day. His dull routine made me reflect on myself and what I did with my life. Comparing myself with the doctor, I thought how I was set apart from him because I had my web site where I wrote and posted my dreams. At the same time I thought of my old law professor and dean of the law school, Angus McSwain. I recalled that McSwain had appeared in some of my dreams and that his name was on my website. I thought how somebody like McSwain might read some of my dreams on my website and see how my old dreams just sat on the site without anything happening to them. What invigorated the site, I thought, was the constant addition of new dreams. I thought that I should be adding a new dream every day, that the new dreams were what kept the website alive. As I thought of my dreams, I continued to think of the difference in the life I lived, and the lives that people like the optometrist or McSwain lived, how they lived routine day-to-days lives without anything new. New things happened to me, however, in my dreams, things such as "fire-breathing dragons."

I suddenly had a vision of a dragon standing on a bridge over a body of water. Without warning the dragon snorted fire out of his nostrils and the fire flashed across the water. I thought to myself, this fire-breathing dragon, this was the kind of thing which appeared in my life.

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