Thursday, April 26, 2007

Dreaming ...

Last night, as I nestled into my many pillows and pulled the covers up over my shoulder (I sleep on my side), I stated my desire to dream about a certain someone, just to see if he'd show up in my slumbers.

Instead, I dreamt about G.

Yeah, that G. More-than-a-year-ago G.

Where the hell did he come from? Let me state, unequivocally, that I have no interest in dating him again.

It was a good dream, a long dream, one of those dreams that you wish you could TiVo. In it, he had moved on to dating someone new, someone rather short and plain. Someone I seemed to recognize. His apartment was cooler in that it was a corner unit and the views were of the lake.

I was there to gather all my things (not that I ever had things there when we were actually dating, except for a pillow, which I left) but I was there for a long time. And I was working on his computer, editing a video. Huh? I don't edit videos.

Anyway, the dream was gratifying for a number of reasons:

His apartment was a sty, and I smugly thought that he was clearly dating the wrong woman if he put up with such a mess. G's real apartment was/is fastidiously neat. Well, his desk was a mess, but the rest of his apartment looked like he was waiting for a magazine crew to show up for a shoot. But in the dream, there was crap everywhere. Everywhere. Dishes piled up in the kitchen, a dining table covered in papers and assorted junk. An old couch with flattened cushions covered in ratty throws. In my dream, he went somewhere with New Girl and I told him I'd clean up the areas I'd used. And I became a cleaning dervish, making everything tidy, knowing he'd walk in later and realize just how much he hated living in a mess. Heh, heh, heh.

But as I gathered all my stuff, I realized that there was no way I'd be able to schlep it all to my car in one trip. So I started looking for the set of keys that he used to give to me when I stayed there. I found them, but the main key was broken, as though he'd snapped it off in a lock. Oh well, I figured. I'll just leave his door unlocked between trips to my car.

But then he came home - alone for the time being - and as he was in his bedroom, I remembered my video on his computer (a laptop on the messy dining table) and logged on to e-mail it to myself. For some reason, it was important. He joined me in the living/dining room as I was getting my things together and proceeded to try on two shirts, asking me which one I thought he should wear to wherever it was he was going.

And in a happy dream moment, I said, "Um, you don't get to ask me the 'girlfriend-y' questions anymore."

He was nice enough to help me carry my stuff to my car (in his building's parking garage) as we stood there in my dream, I thought about really planting one on him, a long, deep kiss, just to remind him of what he'd given up. He was looking at me that way. I knew he was thinking about a kiss, too.

And then I said, "Well, thanks for your help!" and got in my car and drove away.


Anonymous Ethan said...

(Paraphrased from what little of a Steven Wright ahow I saw the other night:)

I went to the video store. I asked the guy if they had the one that starred Nicolas Cage and Hayley Mills. I said it was the one where they lost the war because they made all of the submarines out of styrofoam.

Then I realize that what I just described isn't a movie, it was a dream I once had. Which - how cool would that be to rent your dreams and watch them again?

The guy says, "that's not a movie, that was a dream you had."

I asked, "how did you know that?"

He said, "you tried to rent it last week."

I said, "well, let me know when you get it in."

10:46 AM  

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