Every year at this time, when the kiddies are swirling to move back into the dorms, I feel their anxiety. The dorms still smell the same–that humid, hairspray smell. And my stomach does flip-flops when I catch a whiff.<\/p>\n
I usually have a dream every year that Grant and I have to move back into the dorms for financial reasons. We have to live separately with other same-sex little ones, and we have to wrangle “alone time.” Before I was married, I’d dream that I’d arrive with nothing but the clothes on my back. No books, no sheets, no clean underwear. Then my dream changed to include Grant.<\/p>\n
But last night, I had a new variation. I think Isaac has changed the story. I was returning to IU for a class with Lucaites, and I was going to be late. I had put on four necklaces (Grant says this is proof that I’m over-achieving) and carefully written out my class prep (since at IU there were always assignments before class began). I raced out to jump in the car and it was gone! OHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!<\/p>\n
What is it about my psyche that a particular smell can trigger such a predictable, recurring dream?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Every year at this time, when the kiddies are swirling to move back into the<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[21],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-137","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-think"],"yoast_head":"\n