Playing catch-up

I’m not a person who usually remembers her dreams.  I’ve made a pretty serious effort to do so for this past month or two, and even a little beforehand in an attempt to sort of practice remembering.  So I guess for me it could count as a change that I am remembering at all, though I’m inclined to think it’s more the effort than the pillowcase, nice to sleep on as it is (though my head gets stuck to it a little, since the jersey knit doesn’t like letting go of fibrous things, like my hair, for instance).

My dreams have been, I think, more full of flashes of sensation.  This will require a jump in the dream time machine and I’ll have to consult my notes for the last while.

12/17: A couple of us were going to pick up Flight of the Conchords in a large flatbed.  The problem was the flatbed was already piled high with mattresses, so once we retrieved them, the two of us were forced to ride between the mattresses.  I fell out and wandered a city street marked with potholes as large and craggy as craters while cars attempted to navigate them.

1/1: I was playing with my baby nephew, only ‘baby’ in this case meant that he only about the size of my thumb, so I kept losing him and was utterly terrified that I would step on him.

Later that night, one of my coworkers offered to make us eggs.  She had a massive jar just full of de-shelled eggs, and I remember listening to the weird bobbing of dozens of egg yolks against each other, like no other surface.

I love that the internet just has everything...

1/7:  My glasses fell under a couch and were broken when I picked them up.  I wiped away the break like it was a smudge on their surface.

1/28: Last night I was on a plane.  There were many complicated side things happening, but the part that stuck with me most was the bathroom of this place, which may have been either on the plane or the destination.

I had to go (because of course I also had to in real life), and there was a large room with a large trough divided in the middle by a partition.  Each side of the trough was separated into 6 square holes with dividers and a shallow trough near the partition which held a veritable sea of used tampons.  One was meant to do one’s business in the holes, then the mechanism would push the solid waste away, like a giant litter box.  There was a red-tinged urine puddle on the floor, and I was utterly repulsed, especially since I was wearing flip-flops for whatever reason.  I washed both hands and feet when I was done.

Aria