Menage à Trois Bingo

For the first time in several weeks I had and remembered a dream this morning, or maybe it was two dreams. I'm not sure what the segue was between the separate segments, if there was one. I think having spent the weekend creatively made a difference.

I have noted my mood is much better since Friday or so. It's not that I was depressed before, but I'm actively happy now. I've even gotten going in the morning much more easily, and arrived at work on time two days in a row! I know that doesn't sound like much, but I had been dragging more and more, arriving later and later, until there were a couple days last week that I didn't arrive until nearly ten a.m.

My weekend of gardening has been very therapeutic for me. I'm so proud of my work, and just getting intimate with Mother Earth is wonderfully refreshing. I have to remember this lesson, and not let other things separate me from my creativity. Now for my next trick--get back to writing morning pages every day and start doing the weekly Artist's Way tasks again. I think I am going to restart completely, since I've lost the thread of it.

On to the dreams.

I dreamed I had been arrested and thrown in jail for selling drugs, along with an older man I did not know. In the cell, while we awaited our interviews with the police, he tried to convince me to confess. I knew I was innocent, and that he was trying to get out of it by blaming me.

My turn for interview came first, and I went with the policeman to his office. He was asking me about my finances, I guess trying to prove that I had more money than my job--at the police station!--would account for. I told him about paying off my mortgage a little extra each month, and really boring things like that. I also told him that the other man had been trying to make me confess but I didn't do anything. A secretary told him "She's a four," which had something to do with my pay grade at the police station. Then he asked me what my DSN was (it's an acronym used at the SLMPD and means employee number). I said "2577". I don't remember whether that is actually my old DSN from when I worked for the SLMPD, but it could well be. After a while they let me go. As I walked out I saw the other guy being taken in for his interview.

I went down to the parking garage to get my car, and on the way I saw him leaning out of an upper window as if he were about to jump. I yelled, "Don't jump!" and his head withdrew. When I got to the parking garage, he was there in a car opposite mine. I thought at first that he was going to ram my car for my having told on him. But no, he pulled back and I saw that the car was an ancient opentopped behemoth, three rows of seats crammed full with seventeen kids--yes, exact number, not exaggeration--and a wife. The older girls and his wife were wearing those stiff bonnet-caps that the Mennonites or Amish wear. He said to me that he had been married and divorced five times. I suppose it was by way of explaining the extreme number of children or the necessity for ill-gotten funds from drug sales, or both.

Then suddenly I was in my garden with curgoth and neeuqdrazil. My saxophone case and some other miscellaneous junk was piled against some of my new plants. I think if there was any connection between this and the previous dream it was that I thought the other guy had done the minor vandalism as revenge. I was concerned for my saxophone, but cg reassured me that it would be fine because it had been inside the case. We started complaining about a new edition of the Amber books that had been bowdlerized beyond recognition, while planting something grassy with long purple plumes similar to pampas grass.

He left it a pigsty. I don't think the place had been cleaned in months, and while moving his stuff out they just left their trash (soda cans and such) wherever they stood when they tired of it. There are myriads of small things broken that should have been fixed: the pipe going out of the kitchen sink has a hole in it, the flush handle on the upstairs toilet has broken off, several light bulbs were burnt out, the back door deadbolt does not work, the hardwood floor in one room is almost destroyed from cat urine...I've already replaced the ceiling fixture globe that he broke five months ago and wouldn't even spend five bucks to replace.

I spent two hours this morning just surveying the damage and making a list of things to buy at the hardware/home center. Then I went and bought it all, came back, put new light bulbs in, etc.

After that I spent an hour at Cost Plus World Market, and came back and made a creative space in the house. I had originally intended to use the smallest bedroom, but when I saw the state of the floor (see note above: it's horrible) I decided to use the back porch instead. It's fully enclosed, but has no heat, so I put a small space heater in there. I bought a big fluffy flokati rug, some floor cushions, a chenille throw, a vase and some cool fake flowers, and set it all up. I took pictures, I'll post them soon, but I don't want to take the time right now. I'm wiped from working all day.

When I finished the room, I went out to dinner, then came back and cleaned the rest of the upstairs. I just got back to my apartment at midnight: I've been working and rushing around since noon. So pictures of the house and the cool new room will have to wait until tomorrow night.