Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Shoddy Dream Aquariums
Normally, I find that real life provides sufficient fodder for this blog, but with school out on break and me blogging from the deepest, darkest reaches of New England, I am at somewhat of a loss for material.
Fortunately, my subconscious has provided the solution to my problem.
Consider the following dream I had last night, presented in italics to distinguish from the harshly regular world of reality.
I'm in a classroom at Underwood High. The students in the room are from my first period chemistry class, but instead of sitting at lab tables as is the norm, they are in desks, clustered in groups of four.
The lesson I am presenting focuses on density, specifically how one should go about determining the volume of an irregularly shaped object. It's a standard procedure requiring nothing more than a graduated cylinder and a pre-measured amount of water. Placing the object, in this case a lump of clay, in the liquid causes the water level to rise such that the new volume measurement increases an amount equal to the volume of the object.
As stated, a relatively simple procedure. And yet, for some reason, I have placed the graduated cylinder in a rather large aquarium. Barring this relatively minor irregularity, the lesson proceeds as it has many times before...at least at first. I explain the procedure and place the clay in the water. The water level rises, but in the murky world of my dream, I can actually see the water level rising slowly, millimeter by millimeter until it reaches what should be its final destination...
And then it keeps going. The water level keeps rising, eventually overflowing from the cylinder and filling up the aquarium. My students ask where the water is coming from and I, increasingly confused, become flustered as I try to explain what is occurring. The aquarium begins to fill up steadily and its sides start to shake slightly.
Finally, the rickety old thing can't handle the pressure and the walls burst. I, standing right next to explosion, am knocked over in the subsequent deluge. And all goes black...
When I regain consciousness, I find myself in the room with one of the school's disciplinarians and the superintendent, witnessing a conversation between the two on the merits of group work in the classroom. And they turn and ask me for my opinion, and as I, drenched and confused, am about to respond...
I wake up feeling neither wiser nor especially well-rested.
I think I liked it better when my work life stayed out of my dreams. Things made much more sense that way.
Normally, I find that real life provides sufficient fodder for this blog, but with school out on break and me blogging from the deepest, darkest reaches of New England, I am at somewhat of a loss for material.
Fortunately, my subconscious has provided the solution to my problem.
Consider the following dream I had last night, presented in italics to distinguish from the harshly regular world of reality.
I'm in a classroom at Underwood High. The students in the room are from my first period chemistry class, but instead of sitting at lab tables as is the norm, they are in desks, clustered in groups of four.
The lesson I am presenting focuses on density, specifically how one should go about determining the volume of an irregularly shaped object. It's a standard procedure requiring nothing more than a graduated cylinder and a pre-measured amount of water. Placing the object, in this case a lump of clay, in the liquid causes the water level to rise such that the new volume measurement increases an amount equal to the volume of the object.
As stated, a relatively simple procedure. And yet, for some reason, I have placed the graduated cylinder in a rather large aquarium. Barring this relatively minor irregularity, the lesson proceeds as it has many times before...at least at first. I explain the procedure and place the clay in the water. The water level rises, but in the murky world of my dream, I can actually see the water level rising slowly, millimeter by millimeter until it reaches what should be its final destination...
And then it keeps going. The water level keeps rising, eventually overflowing from the cylinder and filling up the aquarium. My students ask where the water is coming from and I, increasingly confused, become flustered as I try to explain what is occurring. The aquarium begins to fill up steadily and its sides start to shake slightly.
Finally, the rickety old thing can't handle the pressure and the walls burst. I, standing right next to explosion, am knocked over in the subsequent deluge. And all goes black...
When I regain consciousness, I find myself in the room with one of the school's disciplinarians and the superintendent, witnessing a conversation between the two on the merits of group work in the classroom. And they turn and ask me for my opinion, and as I, drenched and confused, am about to respond...
I wake up feeling neither wiser nor especially well-rested.
I think I liked it better when my work life stayed out of my dreams. Things made much more sense that way.
