mjj (flemmings) wrote,

Sunday perdidi

Nothing like a four hour mid-afternoon nap while waiting for the barbarians uhh the 60 mph winds to come and take tree branches down. But oh, it was so pleasant under my wool blanket and atop the soft flannel sheets with flannel cased pillows about me, listening to the winds gust outside. No wonder I caved to the temptation.

And dreamed the house my sibs and I lived in- no place I can identify- and its narrow garden, grey in the March melt or maybe the June rains, had been taken over by some large animal whose genus I ought to remember but can't. It pooped a lot, though, and I had to clean it off my Birkenstocks while a Japanese visiting student promised to bring in his ms. Then there was a Japanese pop singer on her motorbike, giving a ride to her pop star boyfriend while I tried to keep the backlights on my bike carrier. I was in Japan by then and had found my old Wani bike, but had the same trouble with the back carrier, until I rode it into the dining room of a Nakano hotel where all the Pre-school staff were at dinner with a bunch of people. They'd been invited to visit one Nichole, once a kid at the daycare, now grown out of recognition. The streets being dark now I figured I couldn't bike to where I was going any more; it was too late for trains, the Nakano station (nothing like itself) all dark. I tried calling Jean on the pay phone to see if I could stay with her, but the buttons would only offer certain combinations of numbers which didn't match those of her home number. I'd hoped to hitch a ride with Nichole's party but there were too many people so I said casually that I'd find a love hotel and spend the night there: 'you only need to brazen it out when you first walk in', I said more cheerfully than I felt.

My dreams do turn into frustration ones on a regular basis, but this wasn't high frustration, just 'what a bother.'
Tags: dreams, rl_19

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