The night I slept in the jungle I had an interesting dream. Not so much a dream, it was more of a nightmare for me. My travel buddy and I were driving around Paraguay. Well, in my dream we were in Paraguay, but it looked like my neighborhood in the U.S. I was angry with him because he scratched the front of my Toyota Avalon. “Look, my insurance is going to go up and my parents are going to be mad at me,” I told him. He told me not to worry, as he knew what he was doing. That part of the dream must have been related to our motorcycle incident.
We entered my house and I had to put in the alarm code. I was getting ready to move and I was going to leave all the stuff in my house behind. Looking around my friend said, “It’s a beautiful house. Why would you leave all this behind?” “I’m not coming back to Paraguay. I’m leaving,” I repeated frantically.
Finally, I remember having applied to five graduate schools and being rejected by three. I was worried that if I wasn’t accepted, I would have no future. Only I would have a nightmare about graduate schools while I was in the middle of the Amazonian jungle, surrounded by wild animals.
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