lastnite: a dream journal

Metadream

I woke up from a fifteen minute nap only slightly refreshed.

In the dream, I was living in a house built like a capital T shape, suspiciously in a semi-Asian style like the Center. In the wide crossbar of the T, I fell asleep on the couch of the living room. I was covered, not with blankets, but with the remnants of 8.5 x 11" paper after nine 2.125" circles had been cut out of them. I was buried in baby blue shards of paper, yet not whole sheets of it. (You know the dough that's left over after using cookie cutters? The pieces of paper were like that.) I was watching some inane homosexual high school soap opera until I fully woke up in the dream. I realized (in the dream) that I had just had a dream about the lead character in the soap opera, a slightly ethnic boy of eighteen, who uttered some stupid punchline. The show ended, credits rolled, and I became aware suddenly that I was late for my dinner appointment. It was 4:18 pm, and I thought that the clock had to be wrong. Then Star Trek: The Next Generation came on as it did everyday at 4:18 pm and I knew I had to move and get going. I clicked off the television and stood up, but I could not stand up straight. It was as if I was heavily drugged or drunk. My head spun, or the room did, or both. I ran (for some reason), swerving and weaving like young boys who hold their arms straight out pretending to be airplanes. I was aware suddenly that I was naked and soaking wet, as if I had just gotten out of the shower, and I worried if anyone had seen me through the windows. I thought about drying off in my sheets, because I had made it to my room, but I remembered that the bathroom was certainly to the north of me. Directly west of me was the closet. I collapsed on a loveseat in my room. I heard the echo of water running outside and figured Jon J. had left the sprinklers running. I did not know if he was coming back or not; then I became terrified of being locked in and not knowing the alarm code to disarm the system.