Anxiety Dreams and Waking Comforts

I thought of waking up at my usual early time of 4 a.m., but then I let myself drift back to sleep, where I had one of the types of anxiety dreams I have most often:  there's a house that needs renovations, and we're in a race against time.  Last night, the house was beautiful, but when I looked at the ceramic tile we had just had installed, chunks were flaking off, in layers, like flakes.  I thought, thank goodness we've sold this house; this will be someone else's problem.  Then I couldn't remember if we had actually closed or not.  Then I woke up and reminded myself that we only own one house, and it does need repairs, but it's O.K.

I can trace this anxiety dream:  my spouse told me about home repairs in the afternoon, I read a newspaper article about how this time of the real estate market is hard for both buyers and sellers, and then I finished reading Bruce Holsinger's The Displacements, a book about a monster hurricane that destroys both Miami and Houston, which makes it a real estate novel in many ways.

It's an interesting book.  I would have liked more about the run up to the storm and the storm, but he dispatches that part of the plot quickly and spends the bulk of the novel in the FEMA camp set up for the displaced people in Oklahoma.  The end note suggests that Holsinger's depiction of the aftermath of the storm is much tamer than that suggested by climate scientists, and he's likely correct.

The book was due back at the Little Falls branch of the Montgomery county (MD) yesterday, so early this morning, I took it to the book drop.  On my way, I took a brief driving tour through the streets with houses decorated for Halloween.  I have tried to time my late afternoon/evening walks so that I see these lights, although some of them seem to be lit no matter when I walk by.  But walking once it's fully dark is a bit unnerving.

It's also unnerving to consider the reason why:  I am now more scared of tripping and breaking bones/face than I am about being mugged or raped.  I am cautious, of course--I keep an eye out for potential dangers of all sorts, but I'm more worried about trip hazards than predator males.

Last night I walked in the time just after sunset, the time of pale pink light that slowly deepens to lavender then purple then black.  Some of the Halloween lights were on, while others stayed dark.  I got home, finished my reading and writing for the day, and paused to reflect on how much less stress I have now that I'm not responsible for accreditation, retention, building safety standards, and annual evaluations of staff and faculty.  And then I drifted off to sleep.