I had the luxury of a 2-hour mid-morning nap last Sunday. The oppressive humidity didn’t make for fine bed weather. All the same, I was certain I needed some catching up on sleep so much so that I had difficulty getting up in time for lunch. I had one of those disturbing dreams, disturbing in the sense that it has caught my fancy and its apparent meaning has shaken me up a bit.

In my dream, it felt as if I was swimming in a thick soup of air that made movement difficult and the senses dulled.

I was surprised to find that an excursion turned out to be in a boot camp, the scene of which was reminiscent of CAT in high school.  There were glass top coffee tables sparsely lined up on both sides of a straight and narrow path. The setting was strange because it seemed as though we were indoors but I had a sense that we were actually outdoors. In between and around the tables were us, “excursionists”, fixing ourselves in a hurry for the inspection. We were each given a pair of military green pants and belt to wear with the shirts that we had on when we came in. Two friends of mine in real life, Bo & Jo, who happen to be sisters, were with me, and were apparently better equipped than I was, bringing with them their running shoes (although, I don't know how that would have been appropriate with military pants). I suddenly felt insecure as I was ill-prepared for the activity ahead, as was the usual theme of my dreams.

Platoon officers were just about inspecting the line starting from the other end.  I overheard one of the officers say that we had to be dressed up when they get to us or we get kicked out. So I fumbled all the more with my belt and hurriedly tried to scour for a spare pair of running shoes lying about.  I found a few boxes of running shoes under the coffee table where we were positioned but I was told that the shoes would be given away to charity later in the day. Eventually, I resolved that my flexible sandals can stand up to moderate activity. By the time I got myself fixed, the platoon officers were standing opposite us, inspecting the girls in front of us. Then I was up next.

There were two or three platoon officers, all men. I thought I heard one say  that I was “okay” in his opinion. Another one said that the girl whom they inspected prior to myself looked like a man, (although, frankly, she looked fine to me), at which they broke out in boisterous laughter. That was when I realized that the “excursionists” were all single ladies (most of who are women officemates in real life). And, mind you, we were not just single ladies, but we were mostly over thirty as well (a realization that struck me only now, while writing).  I likewise suddenly got the impression that we were there because they were looking for “partners” and that I had just been picked out.

We were then directed to march outside. While we were filing towards the exit, one of my former officemates broke out into a song (I don’t remember what in particular) and left the queue and with dramatic flair took a flight of stairs down to who knows where.

That was when I woke up with a start as my dog, Spike, jumped on my bed while running away from my sister who was trying to give him a bath.

So I there I was, half awake, trying to shake myself up to bring me back fully to my senses. I was drenched in sweat and my eyelids and limbs were heavy. I think I brought back with me some of that thick soup of air. That was a strange dream, I supposed. But it was one of those dreams that rate a considerable 6 in my bizarrometer dream scale.

But what struck me was that it implied that I was on a mad scramble out of singlehood. Am I really getting a little too desperate of my situation? Am I competing with all the other single ladies in the office, afraid of being left behind? Do I really find myself inept of finding love? If you ask me, I’ll tell you that I’m perfectly fine being single and I would honestly believe so. But my recent actions speak otherwise. For one, entertaining the thought of being romantically involved with a guy 8 years my junior should be a cause for alarm. But I honestly am not that bothered. Should I be?

That blasted dream has raised more questions than it has answered.  I’d like to go back to sleep now and hope to find more answers.