Why I shouldnt move books before bed.
I had the strangest and most vivid dream last night that I’ve had in a long time. All I had was a gyro, it isn’t like I had red alarm chile from a heartburn commercial. So here is my dream…
I get downtown early, so I have time to get breakfast. The food court is packed, the floors are slippery, waiters keep moving tables, tables are full of people, people won’t share space. I somehow eat and leave, but leave my purse behind. I realize that I am dressed inappropriately (jeans and a sweater halter top) so I decide to go buy a skirt that will make it more appropriate. I see a bunch of women wearing black/white/gray floral print, tea length skirts. I decide that will be appropriate, but realize that I’ve left my purse behind at the food court.
Like I said, the floors are slick and everything is in motion, when I nearly get to my purse, another women finds it. She won’t give it to me, even though I tell her the name of the things in my purse. She looks at my pay stub and says, “This doesn’t make sense, you’re a man and this is a woman’s name.” (Or that I was a woman with a man’s name. She wouldn’t give me my purse, but finally did.)
I start running to get a skirt and end up at the lake. Everything is frozen over, a la Antarctica. There are hover crafts and big boats, lots of media, lots of indy media. There is a huge something (a boat hits the frozen shore, a tsunami of ice, something) and suddenly the ground shifts in a giant seismic wave. Way down and up, I go flying and when I land I break through the ice and go under water. I see the ice churning and swim up (like a penguin, I did just see happy feet) and I pop out of the water.
Then I’m sitting in the warm sun, but surrounded by ice and dripping wet. An indy reporter comes up and puts his camera away and starts talking to me. Asking why I’m dressed the way I am, but complimenting me. We watch the commotion of the hovercrafts and the announcers. It was definitely a planned event, but the quake changed the feeling.