|
|
|
2 July 2010 10:48 AM 7/2/2010 This morning my alarm goes off at 6:45. I hit snooze. The alarm goes off again five minutes later. Presumably, I decide that I'm awake enough to get up without undertaking another official snooze cycle. Presumably, I turn off the alarm. Presumably, I fall back asleep (or, alternatively, I remain asleep). And then begins an atmospheric dream starring me as the single mother of a ragtag group of children, maybe 4 of them, driving around the country in an old bus with our collection of kitties. The kitties sleep on plates in the bus, as do I, as do the children. I think. The bus is blue and big as a house/bus. I am sleeping, possibly on a plate, by the dashboard. The camera switches to the oldest child, who comes to wake me up or something. Right then my cell phone rings and we all know that it's a man calling who's going to court me and bring resolution to this television show that we're starring in. We met him at a gas station in Arizona, or he helped with a flat tire, or something. Maybe he looks like Jesus. The ringing of the phone startles me, or it startles my cat, and I or my cat knock water onto the plate that I or my cat was sleeping on or eating chocolate cake from or both. "Oh what will I do?" I say, and someone, maybe one of the children, or maybe myself, puts another plate on top of the wet plate. I in real life start awake at 7:22, 13 minutes before I am supposed to leave for work, which I more or less manage to do, despite the fact that I forgot to pack anything to wear for the day. It's raining cats and dogs and there's not enough time for me to stop by my apartment before work to get pants. I improvise successfully and arrive at work on time fully clothed but we'll never find out what happened with that family in the bus.
|