Manderley

"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again." The famous first line of the 1938 novel "Rebecca," which I admit I've never read but have read ABOUT in various articles and Jeopardy clues. It's regarded as one of the best opening lines in literature, or at least one of the most memorable, because it lays out the atmosphere and mood of the rest of the story and puts you right into that world. Well, last night I dreamt I went to Jeopardy again. I know, I might be going crazy (various characters in Rebecca do actually feel like they're going crazy). It wasn't just any dream, it was a vivid dream, full of detail, dialogue, identifiable characters, and the raw emotion of playing another Jeopardy game and the elation of winning (unlike real life, I actually won in this dream). I guess it's what happens when I do 2 of the biggest things that provide good rest: 1.) blood donation, and 2.) got a haircut. For some reason, purely anecdotally and without taking any data, every time I do those things the dreams are lucid, vivid, and feel like the real deal. Maybe the blood is replenishing in my body? It doesn't do the same for platelet donations, just whole blood donations. Anyway, the dream? I was so enthralled in the dream I didn't want to wake up, and that dream world was satisfying, without need to eat, use the restroom, or have any anxiety or worries, everything just happened narratively and told like a story, like my brain was telling me a story, except I was living in it. Baby girl Yan even woke up in the middle of the night, I fed her, and I then continued dreaming after I went back to sleep! In many ways, the actual Jeopardy experience was kind of like a fever dream (TIL fever dreams cause vivid dreams because the body is unusually heated which disrupts brain activity during sleep, which may be imitated by body producing more blood? Interesting science experiment for any neurologists). I'm sure this isn't unique to me, but the best, most anticipated days of our lives go by too quickly, at least in proportion to how long we spend anticipating them and working towards them. Same thing happened for dodgeball, the biggest event of our lives went by in about 5 minutes just by nature of how quick dodgeball games go: a flash compared to how many times our team practiced, watch videos, dreamed about that day. Wedding day: a whole year and LOT of resources (probably the most expensive day I've incurred in my life) just to be over in a few hours, but at least we have vivid, vivid pictures of the day, so I'd say it was worth it. And then finally Jeopardy tape day, the day I longed for every day for 5 years at least, came and went in just one afternoon, with the actual game lasting just 20 minutes, probably shorter than the lucid dream I had last night about being on it. Then it was back to life as normal again, just without the anticipation. It'll probably take me another couple years on the backside to recover from it too, where many Jeopardy contestants have reported "post-Jeopardy syndrome" which involves caring less about the show, not even watching it anymore after having been on it. I get it, the stakes are different now, you're no longer studying for it, the thrill is gone, especially if you're "never going back to Manderley again." Life is kind of unfair in that way, the most precious moments of our lives go by so quickly without being able to replicate them ever again, the down times feel like they go on forever, yet if you get to do those precious moments over and over again, they don't feel so precious anymore, more mundane and you lose the novelty (maybe some superchamps like Matt Amodo feel this way?). I wish for Baby Yan to get all the experiences she yearns for and enjoys them. Yesterday I did finally get a stranger to recognize me, after so many days of locking contact with others in public without any recognition. My barber, of all people, who I didn't tell that I was going to Jeopardy, but was responsible for the haircut I ended up going with on national TV, greeted me warmly as "Mr. Jeopardy" when I walked in to the shop yesterday and told me he'd seen my episode. I played it off nonchalantly, but inside I was beaming. Finally, I didn't go to Manderley for nothing! Someone that wasnt obligated to see it saw it! Maybe some sort of closure for this chapter in my life, although I still wouldn't mind visiting Jeopardy again in real life, not just dreaming it.