Fade In:
The apartment isn’t shut down for the night yet at just a shade beyond 10 p.m. The alarm is armed but the computer is still up and a lamp continues to burn. Stretched out on the bed/sofa, sipping on daughter’s version of a Pena Colada, waiting for Neta to call, I tune in Logo’s sanitized version of QAF.
Then I'm out.
The next conscious moment comes at 2:30 a.m. I’m not sure what woke me, probably the thumpa thumpa of the QAF re-run being broadcast at that time. I do a walk-thru, making sure all is well, use the bathroom and shut down the computer. I realize I’d not spoken to Neta, so I call.
Neta: Hey baby, what are you doing up?
Me: Not up, really. I slept and something woke me up.
Neta: Well, by the time it slowed down enough for me to call you, it was late and I didn’t want to wake you.
Me: Yeah, I know. I figured. I just wanted to call to say hey. And I love you, and goodnight.
Neta: Goodnight baby. I’ll call you in the morning.
I settle down to sleep a bit more. It won’t come, at least not until nearly 4 and even then it was fitful. The remnants of a dream niggled at my edges.
Neta, D and I were in a house. Not the condo, not Neta’s house. It was some other place. For some reason I’m up very early re-decorating. I’m moving a narrow baker’s rack type shelving full of pots and pans. For some reason I don’t remove the pans. I carry the laden shelving to some type of pantry without dropping a thing. Miraculous, I’m thinking, when my attention is diverted to a hole in a wall. The hole looks like an opening for the beginnings of a small window.
Curious, I look through. I see a lump. Suddenly the lump begins to lumber toward the opening, toward me. I don’t shriek until the lumbering lump takes a leap. I see that it is a HUGE striped tabby. I mean HUGE. Huge, but not like a real cat. This cat was a cartoon-y, puppet-like cat. The fur was felt. The eyes like buttons. But it was HUGE. And it moved. Slow and then fast. Only the head fit through the opening I realized after I’d backed into the shelving, crashing all the pots and pans. Neta appeared at the doorway to the pantry with a WHAT THE FUCK look on her face.
I got up, showered and such, fixed a cup of coffee, ate a watermelon slice and got dressed. D got up shortly after and when she was ready, we left.
D nearly spit out her iced coffee when I told her the dream on our way to the train.
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ReplyDeleteVell, Ms. Middle Gurl, eet obviouzlee meanz zat your puzzy vants to be felt up by your Neta. You zee? Zimple.
ReplyDeleteHow interesting. I love the image of the cat... for some reason Mr Roger's Neighborhood popped into my head when you were describing the cat.
ReplyDeleteThat is a crazy dream indeed. I hate having dreams like that. You better get some rest...you are going to need it when a certain someones gets to town. :-)
ReplyDeletei focused on the house not being either you or Neta's.... see? you guys will be in a place called "yours" or "ours".... very nice! :)
ReplyDeleteI tend to lean toward Val's theory. A place of your own coming when you least expect it and so suddenly, that it will knock you off your feet!! Yeah, that's the ticket!!
ReplyDeleteNothing like an extremely large pussy to scare the shock out of you and make you drop your domesticity.....
ReplyDeleteAll these wild ideas, and I'm just thinking, "Hmmm, wonder what weird food you ate before going to sleep?"
ReplyDeleteyez, yez, eb. that though did cross my mind.
ReplyDeleteAmaya, that's funny. The cat made me think of Cuddly Dudly from the Ray Raynor morning show.
Chapin, I'm trying to rest. It's hard, but I'm trying.
Val: ours certainly is foremost in my conscious thoughts.
Z46: It wouldn't take much to knock me off my feet these days.
Maria: LOL Have mercy.
Sassy, I don't know. I try to avoid eating anything...weird. I think.