Day Twenty-four

I've had some computer issues lately, hence the gap in posts. 

The night before last:

My co-worker, S., was becoming very frustrated with a particularly challenging child.  I was listening to him scold the child and I turned to do something else, for I could tell he had a handle on it.  Then while I wasn't looking he started spanking the kid. When  I turned to look at what was going on, the student said something about hitting him and I started to freak out about this teacher abusing the child and how I was going to handle  it.  The kid seemed fine, if anything I got the sense that he couldn't wait to tell his parents so that we would get in trouble. I kept asking S. what he did, trying to determine what the spanking looked like. Was it over the knee, bare-butt? or pants on? or actual paddling? or blatant hitting? For some reason, I had it in my head that if it was a 'traditional' spanking, like one that parent might give their kid, that then it would be explainable. I couldn't get a straight answer though. 

Last night:

There were two, or maybe one in parts that I don't remember how they connect. In one I was meeting up with an old friend Rae, I have not talked to in years at this point.  It is worth mentioning however that that she has popped up in my dreams a few times, always in a 'let's catch up and hang out' sort of way.  I was telling her about seeing her friends around town, like at the grocery store or the gas station. Then we went out somewhere, and I think we were flying over city in an airplane or maybe  helicopter. It was nighttime, so it was beautiful. We were above most of the buildings, but still close enough to see the cars below. Some of the buildings were so tall that we'd fly right by the top stories or the ornamentation atop the building.  I was amazed at how enormous everything was when you were right there next to it.

Another dream was in Tucson. Jesse and I were looking through a garage full of stuff that Lucy, his mom, had been holding on to for us.  I wanted so much of it for school that I was trying to convince Jesse that we should rent a U-haul to take it back home. Then we were in the car with his sister. I was looking at Jesse and it looked like he was wearing mascara. I asked him about it and he said he thought it looked "intense" or something like that. I said, "No, it looks faggy." I couldn't believe that I said that, but I also wanted him to know how much I didn't like it.  His retort was something about my tattoos, and I responded again with some awful slur. I was so embarrassed that I was saying these things, especially in front of someone else.  I was worried what his sister, Margaret, would think.  However, not enough to apologize or self correct in anyway.