Sunday, November 27, 2016

Weird Dreams

And now I’m down 4.4 pounds!

We took our cactus plant out of the small pot it was in and replanted it in a large pot that was left here.

The four days he had off was both productive and relaxing.

It was mostly sunny all day but now it’s raining again. I can’t believe all the rain we’ve gotten so far this year. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t go out walking. It’s too cold now anyway.

Had some very weird, long, detailed and negative dreams. In one dream I was in some crack-house for some reason. I was excitedly trying to tell this girl in her 20s about how I tried Atkins, Nutrisystem, and other diets just to get nowhere until I went vegan.

The girl, clearly very pregnant, didn’t appear to be paying attention to me as another girl injected her with some drug.

That’s when I told myself not to bother with her. She was too young for a friend, too fucked up, and she was an obvious druggie.

I turned to leave, apparently on an upper floor. I walked down a long narrow hallway, heading for the stairs, just as a cop came up the stairs and passed me.

“There are a lot of druggies in there,” I told him.

He started to enter one of the rooms.

“No, the next room,” I said.

“Oh,” he said, backing out of it as I hurried downstairs and out of the old dilapidated house. I crossed the lawn and hoped that no one would consider me a snitch and want to kill me for it.

In the next dream I might have been talking to my mother. I entered a restaurant and approached what seemed like an older woman that I’m pretty sure was her, sitting at the counter on the stool. I had been accused of murdering some girl. I don’t know if I was just a suspect in an investigation, or if I was out on bail.

“Don’t ask me any questions,” my mother said sharply as soon as I approached her.

This really pissed me off and I stormed out of the restaurant and to I’m not sure where. Wherever I went, I threw an ashtray full of cigarette butts on the floor. I then picked up the mess moments later.

Next, I returned to the restaurant where my mother was now sitting at a small table for two. I sat down across from her and insisted that I had nothing to do with killing the girl.

“When I was charged with prank phone calls, I was guilty of that. But I have nothing to do with this case. I don’t know this girl. I’ve never seen her. I’ve never talked to her and I have no idea who killed her.”

I turned away for a second and when I looked back at my mother she had tears in her eyes. “My God,” she said, “you really are innocent.”

Then I asked her if she was surprised about how she ended up back with my father, not that they ever separated in real life, of course.

The dream ended with one of us saying something about playing amateur sleuth and trying to find the real killer.

No comments:

Post a Comment