GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!
Interesting dream last night. I don’t usually remember them, but I got lucky this time. No, not lucky in the dream - then I would have had to clean my sheets.
Details are still hazy. Spurts (really, I’m not using these words on purpose) of images come (sheesh dirty minds, all of yous) to me every now and then. From what I can gather, the following is an accurate retelling of the Jessica Lynch story. Wait, what? No no no. Here’s what I really dreamt about:
Ok, this is going to be a collaborative process, as I’m bound to remember more things as I go through this. So: There I am, somewhere. There’s wood paneling around me, large wooden desks scatter the room I’m in. The room seems to be connected to others like it. So far so good. I see books on shelves. Ok, I’m in a library then, how quaint. I need to do something here, I’m sure of it. Oh look, now there are people in the room. This is like some crap slow-loading version of the matrix.
I’m wearing my jacket, and my shoes. And I don’t remember, but I assume I got all the other stuff in between on too. No one’s pointing and laughing, so I’m good to go. Right, I have something to do.
Fearing that if I go do this certain something, and come back to this wonderful faux-finish wood paneling room, a seat will no longer be available, I take my jacket off, and place it on the back of a chair at one of the desks. Oh, I take my shoes off too. Can’t be too careful. I hesitate for a second, thinking that I shouldn’t leave my things unattended in the library (*FLASH* [sign in library] "WE ARE NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR LOST OR STOLEN ITEMS" *FLASH*), but I look to the other guy sitting at the table with me. He’s reading a book, but the MOST AMAZING THING IS THAT he’s wearing the same jacket as me!
Well, that settles that. If he has the same jacket, then he has to be an honest person (although I didn’t check his shoes out), and with a skip, jump and hop in my step I go forth to do my task.
This is the interesting part (oh, as IF what came before wasn’t?). I still have no idea what I need to do, but I have a strong urge to go to the newspapers. I hit the stacks. What? Where are the back issues?! In my dream, I see in front of me the latest solitary copy of the local city paper, The Gazette, but what I need (apparently… At this point my detached consciousness that’s somehow aware this is a dream decides to just go along for the ride) is yesterday’s paper! Specifically, the C section! Why? Why oh why!? I guess I really wanted to read about the Habs losing again in yesterday’s sports section.
Failing in my task, I head back to the original room. Without any shoes. I’m shocked at what I discover.
The TABLES have been REARRANGED!
Deep breath now. And again. Serenity now. *FLASH* Objective: Find jacket and shoes. *FLASH*.
I find my jacket easily enough, thanks to same-jacket-wearing guy. So very helpful, I knew I could count on him. However, I still need to find my footwear.
*Eyes narrow* Seek and recover! I run from table to table, looking underneath each one. (*hop*) Nope. (*zip*) No. (*dash*) Nope. It’s becoming clear to me that some thief has obviously recognized the value of my canvas shoes ($39.95 CDN) and has taken off with them. I’m dejected. But then!…
SHOES! A glorious pile of them! OK, so there’s a pile of shoes in a library with only one copy of the local newspaper, but this is important to me at the time. I root through the pile. I run into a problem.
I can’t remember what my shoes look like.
Disgusted, my disjointed consciousness reaches out to my dream me and says "for fuck’s sake, here’s a picture" (*transfer of cerebral image*).
Ah. I knew that. With that, the odd colored shoes in my hands morph into my pair. Success!
But wait! The laces are wrong!
It’s clear to me that some devious criminal has, for obvious reasons, taken my shoes, removed the laces present, found new laces, and then proceeded to re-lace my shoes with these wrong laces and throw the shoes into a pile. Motive and means, people.
Because my laces are so valuable, I theorize that the bastard probably has his own shoes laced up with them right now. He couldn’t have gotten far. In fact, maybe he’s so cocky as to be sitting in this very room! I spring into action.
Like a dog, I crawl around the carpeted room (thankfully, my brain doesn’t want me to have sore knees), sniffing at the people’s shoes, trying to find my laces.
Things get a little hazy at this point.
*FLASH* I’m in my house. There’s some sort of party going on. But this doesn’t deter me. My laces must be found. I come to the conclusion that some guy at the party has done the deed. I seek him out.
"YOU! Where are my LACES?" I bellow.
"I dunno man, I just threw your shoes into that pile, y’know?"
So he knows about the pile! An admission of guilt!
"THAT’S IT! Either you FIND MY LACES, or you GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!
Clearly, since this is such a kickin’ party, he has no desire to leave. He half-heartedly glances around the room.
"I can’t find them." He says with exhaustion.
"Fine. Get the fuck out then." I move in towards him. Apparently I’m quite strong in this dream, I have no trouble pushing him out the door. My other consciousness agrees with my actions, that’s no way to treat the host of a party. Stealing his laces, indeed. But he does remind the dream-me that NEW laces can be acquired easily for a few dollars.
Mr lace-thief seems to read my thoughts.
"Hey man, I’ll give you 3 bucks for your laces if you let me stay." He holds up a $20.
Good, at least he’s recognized the importance of the situation. But three bucks won’t cover the pain and suffering I’ve gone through, on top of the price of the laces. I demand ten dollars.
He’s upset, but the $20 bill morphs into two $10’s and I snatch one.
"Enjoy the party!" I encourage him.
The last thing I remember before waking up is me, standing crossed armed, with the $10 bill in my hand, observing the party goers. Oh, and the correct laces had returned to my feet. I was smiling smugly.
