I’ve talked about my recurring dreams about elevators in the past. I’ve also talked about how in my dreams, I tend to be afraid of heights while in real life, I have no fear of height or elevators. Last night I had what I consider to be an “anxiety” dream. Again, it’s probably nothing more than my brain committing short term memory to long term memory, but with anxiety involved, it evolves a bit more dramatically.
The dream involved the dinner this weekend and a W hotel in NYC. In the first part of the dream, I found out that my brother and his family’s flight was delayed and they wouldn’t make the dinner. I was really upset and I hung up on whoever I was talking to on the phone. (I rarely get very angry so clearly this was a dream.) Norm had reserved rooms for several of us at a W hotel in NYC (something he was actually kind enough to do). Me and someone else headed to the hotel and found that it was still under construction. A foreman had to take us up to our room in one of those temporary construction elevators. Turns out our hotel room was on the 98th floor and we had a long ride up in a rickety elevator, while the foreman explained just how rickety it was.
But it gets worse. The elevator only went to the 97th floor. To get to our room on the 98th floor, we had to use a hook to pull ourselves up onto the roof of the elevator and then climb into the room. Unbelievably, I did this, with all of Manhattan spread out below me. The person who I was with got half way up and got stuff. I went to grab her hand and she was basically dangling 98 floors above the ground with no one but me keeping her from falling. I finally got her into the room.
We had to stay on the west side of the room because if we moved to the east side, the building started to tilt in that direction and we were afraid it would tip over. What’s worse, there was no easy way to get back into the elevator car without making a dangerous climb 98 floors above the ground, so we were essentially stuck.
Anyway, that was the dream–maybe a low grade fever was involved in it’s manifestation, I don’t know. But I hate dreams like that.