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.

I tried tafkar's suggestion this morning, and wrote my morning pages after my shower. It worked rather well, though I can only do that on the non-Rosa mornings. I've noticed the shower wakes her up, if she's not up already.

Then I wrote the rest of my Valentines, addressed and stamped them, and off they go today.

I've just written not only my morning pages, but five cards for special friends. I feel so awake and alert and accomplished (and alliterative). Just not going back to bed, that's all it took!

What have I done with my reading-free--and Rosa-free--evening?

I went to a decorating store and looked vaguely for wallpaper and decorating fabric that I might want to use in my house. I started thinking about making a canopy for my bed, with fabric hung from the ceiling and wall on curtain rods. The most interesting wallpaper I found was the one my coworker had told me about which was why I went there in the first place: a view out a castle window, with a flying unicorn in the distance.

I bought myself another notebook, this one for non-morning pages scribbling: to take to a coffee house, or just the other side of the apartment where the computer isn't, and write.

I went to House of India and had vegetable korma. It may be my stuffy head, but I think their food's not quite as good as it used to be. On the other hand, the cute waiter is still there, and he still flirts with every woman who comes in the door.

Then I went to see about getting a haircut, but there were no stylists available, so I made an appointment for Wednesday.

I came home and played the piano for about half an hour. I called Christine hoping to go out somewhere, but she wasn't home. Then I tried out my fingerpaints, and finally sat down here and wrote another six or eight paragraphs of La Llorona. I am kind of annoyed with myself because I did some writing on it at work today, but forgot to send the file home, so I now have two files with different pieces of the story, and I'll have to merge them.

This is hard! I keep wandering around the apartment feeling lost because I can't just pick up a book and plop on the couch, I have to think of things to do. Yet I'm still a procrastinator, so the idea of cleaning the apt just doesn't want to happen. I do allow myself to write (and to read my own words, in the process, of course) because I think that is entirely different from getting distracted by other people's words.

Maybe by the end of the week I'll have an easier time of this. I'm hoping so; it's one reason I'm really going to try to stick it out that long. I even sent Paul an email telling him I couldn't game this week!

Tomorrow should hopefully be better: I've got a bunch of errands to run, then Jen and I are going to see Lord of the Rings again (this will be a record. I have never seen any movie more than twice in the theater). After that, I'm tentatively planning to go to the Way Out club with Pam again. This time she is going to drive. I don't want to take my shiny new car to the place where my old one was killed!

How will I survive? I haven't read the chapter yet, but I accidentally opened to it when looking for the week 3 exercises (which I still haven't done, either), and I've been dreading the idea ever since. Now that everyone else is mentioning that it includes reading LJ and email and and and...oh my. Reading's not a chore for me, it's a relaxation and a pleasure and a joy, and the computer is a major part of my social life. But then, the computer, and reading as well, are also probably minor obsessions. Does this also mean I can't game, since my gaming is online in chat rooms? And that I have to go a whole week not IMing anybody? I'd actually have to telephone Jen to talk to her? Or write letters to people?

The very thought has me stunned into disbelief and fear, but at the same time I can also see why I might need it. There are so very very many things I don't do because I'm addicted to reading and the online world.

This is going to be very very hard. I can see myself fighting it already. Wish me luck.

I missed my morning pages today. Immediately after I got up to do them, the small one woke up and wanted to go potty and then she wouldn't go back to sleep. So instead of morning pages I had morning baby-snuggles. I can't say I really mind, though I did bring my morning pages notebook here to work in the theory that I might write here. I doubt it will happen though. This is not a conducive environment. Telephones ringing, people talking, people asking me questions, wanting to know what I'm doing, annoying muzak, and of course the fact that I'm supposed to be working!

Another character did invade my mindspace this morning. His name is Bernie Fish, and he's sort of a typical Woody Allen character. Quiet, shy, nebbish type, who can't ever quite get anything right. From Brooklyn, of course.

This one, unlike most, had a name first. Usually I think of the character or situation and then pick the name to fit, but this name occurred to me, bringing the character with it. Its etymology is kind of amusing. I was thinking about changing the beneficiary on my life insurance and retirement funds (Ray's name is still on some of them), and probably due to my half-awake state, I realized the word sounds rather like Bennie Fishery. Then I thought Bennie Fish, but decided it should be Bernie for reasons I can't remember.

I was *thisclose* to staying home from work today. My head is so stuffed up and my throat hurts. I can't use the treatment I was applying last night--straight rum, in tiny sips--even though it worked, because of the American taboo about drinking during the working day. I'm not driving a train or flying an airplane here, folks! What's the big deal, as long as the work does not suffer?

I may have to take a mental health day soon, and stay home and write. Today would've been a good choice: the forecasters are predicting a high above 60 degrees. Oh well, I'm here, but I'm still writing a little.

I really really enjoyed talking to dj last night. It was great to just talk. It'd been a long time.

I need to find out if Jill wants to go to lunch. We could even go do our traditional walk-around-the-park that we haven't done since winter started, if the weather lives up to predictions. (And with the thought, I write and send an email.)

I could just strangle Ray.

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I haven't said anything today, been too busy living to write about it. ::grin:: Let's see, what did I do today.
I got up to do morning pages, but owing to being awakened at 2:00 by a car alarm that went off in a piercing continuous tone for ten full minutes, and actually getting out of bed to investigate in case it was a fire alarm, I didn't get up right away when the alarm clock went off. I got up at seven, started writing, and Rosa woke up half-way through. So then I had to feed, clothe, and entertain her until Ray arrived at 10:30 to pick her up. I finally wrote the other page and a half then, and it was actually good because I was much more awake and able to concentrate on what I was doing. That's when I found the affirmations.
At 1:00 I left to go meet Marina and Drew and see Lord of the Rings, and thus the subject line. I was on the edge of my chair for three hours--and I've read the books 30 times! Further comments in another post, and I'll hide them in an lj-cut. I'm too tired tonight.
After the movie I hung out at their house for a while, talking about the movie, books, other movies, politics, etc etc. Marina is pregnant and wasn't feeling well, so I mostly talked to Drew. He and I seem to share the same tastes in books and movies (we're always swapping recommendations and lending each other things to read) so I quite enjoy talking to him.
I'll see them again Tuesday for Christmas dinner and presents.
And just for dessert before bed, a little IM conversation with Liz and another with Jay. And dj too. To top off a very good day.

Yes, I know it's not morning anymore, and I should have said this then, but oh well. I got up and wrote the morning pages today: sheer drivel, barely even legible, but that's not the point, is it. Doing it is the point, at least at this stage.

Tomorrow is going to be harder, because I will have to get up at the crack o' dawn (on a Saturday!) in order to do them before Rosa wakes up and interrupts me. Hopefully I can finish and then go back to bed for a little while.

Just bought my online tickets for Sunday at 2:30. I'd like to use this as my artist date for the week, but that feels a little like cheating because I'm going with some friends. I think I will plan something else for Wednesday or Thursday.