I dreamed that I was getting ready to enroll in some school for either anthropologists or archaeologists, along with some friends I don't know in real life (a guy and a girl). The training was brutal, almost military. Drill training, weapons handling, borderline physical punishment. All this with cramming from morning till night, a ton of material. Maybe it was actually the Zemessardze?
Either way, a parade ground with tanks was visible right from the window of my house. Upon finishing the training, we were deployed to distant southern lands filled with jungles. A few days later, we discovered vine-covered otherworldly artifacts that took a heavy toll on our psyche. We were writhing and tripping out, until it turned out that time had rolled back to the moment of our enrollment in the school.
I kept my memories. Apparently, the girl next to me didn't, because she was asking for my opinion on whether she should enroll. I tried to talk her out of it, citing the extremely tough educational process. I felt too awkward to tell her about the future — it's unlikely she would have believed me.
In the end, things ended badly in the new timeline, too. Saboteurs captured the tanks parked on the parade ground and started shelling my house. Huge holes gaped where the apartments used to be, and we were sneaking along the attic to get further away (my house is very long).
On our way, we ran into my dad, who was already fully armed. His huge bare belly was girded with bandoliers, ammo pouches, and cartridge belts, and he was holding a massive machine gun.
Apparently, Dad lives by the "if you want peace, prepare for war" principle. Dad said he knew what to do next and would take charge.
That's where the dream ended.
So I'm thinking, is this a desire to dodge responsibility and dump everything on my parents? Or a reluctance to study and get the AWS certification I'm trying to pass?
A fear of change, of the unknown? Or just a bunch of disconnected thoughts that flew into my head from listening to YouTube?