Another Mask Dream

Anyone need a dream? I had a surfeit of them last night. Convoluted and crazy. Too many to sit and remember, write, and analyze them. It would have taken hours that I don’t have. I instead stayed with one making the largest impression.

I can’t say where I was. Couldn’t make sense of it. In one part I was driving in a car with my wife. Darkness fell suddenly. The headlights didn’t go on as expected. It wasn’t a familiar car. Brown or tan sedan reminiscent of the old Chrysler K cars of the early 1980s, Lee Iacocca’s brain child. I started scrambling to find the headlight controls while verbalizing this to my spouse. Meanwhile, the ride changed from smooth to rough and bouncy. I immediately exclaimed, “We’re off the road. We need to find the road.” Seeing a clear space that could be it, thinking I’d simply veered off, I jerked the wheel left toward the opening.

We went over a hill through heavier bush and woods. Not the road! But, weirdly, POV changed; I could see the car from outside ourselves and the car, and saw that we were heading for an abandoned, weeded asphalt parking lot at the bottom of the hill. While it wasn’t where we wanted to go, it was good enough for now because I could also see that it was separated from the road we wanted by a small median strip. We could get to the parking lot, cross the strip, then drive to our destination, which I could also see in the gloomy dusk.

Now we’re in a room of some sort where we’re to wait. Narrow beds with disheveled blankets and sheets. Mine had cats burrowing through the covers as they played. A woman coming by said, “Yes, some of them have cats. Many don’t.” Okay. I asked her what to expect. She replied, “Find the script, read it, and wait.”

What? I found dog-eared and torn papers stapled together. I began reading, not sure what to expect nor why I was doing it, and thinking, that’s how life is. Meanwhile, the cats were feisty. I thought they hungry. I went about finding food for them. I found food but then couldn’t find the cats. That raised concerns about them.

Then — not sure why — I decided to fashion a mask for myself out of paper towels. I pinched out two holes for eyes and held them over my face. The white paper towels were raggedly torn. I began searching for some way to fasten them around my head but then I saw one of the cats go through.

Then, they demanded I read. Who? Why, it was the director. They’re auditioning people, trying to fill roles. Pick up one of the scripts and read. I did while holding the mask up around my face. The director loved it. Don’t practice; don’t change. Just walk forward, pick up scripts, and read them when you’re told. WTH. I was confused but decided I’d go along with it. I discovered two young actors had been cast as Romeo and Juliet. I was reading other parts. Then they would do their roles. Oh. I tossed the mask aside, feeling that it was a hindrance. A woman rushed up and told me, “No, no, the director liked that raw touch. He thought it was unusual and different and wants you to keep holding the mask as you read.”

So I went forward, holding up my mask, reading scripts when, seeing cats, and trying to feed them.

Dream end.

Floof face

Floof face (floofinition) – 1. Expressions made when speaking with animals.

In use: “Seeing the ginger tabby wander into the dining room, she put on her floof face. Her eyes got big, lighting up from behind their brown irises. Dropping to one knee, she extended a hand and started speaking in a gentle, sweet tone associated with talking to infants.”

2. The acquisition of animal fur on cheeks, chin, forehead, etc.

In use: “His dog, god love him, always joined him in a nap, which both enjoyed, but afterward, he always had a little floof face in a ball of dog hair tangled up in his short beard. He learned on getting up, to look in the mirror and groom such collections off.”

Monday’s Theme Music

We’re sitting under a robin’s egg this morning. That’s how blue and clear the sky is today. The smoke has cleared for now. Warnings that it’s returning. But now, air quality is hovering around 11. Good air. You can see it. You can breathe it.

Today is September 20, 2021, a Monday. Ten more September days remain. Then we slide into the final quarter of 2021. Cool this morning. 42 F. The furnace kicked on as the sun crested the mountains at 6:56 AM. With this lovely air, we expect highs in the mid to upper seventies. A good day to get outside.

As it’s Monday morning, a Monday song called “Monday Morning” from 1975 has permeated the Monday morning mental music stream. At least it’s not a manic Monday. That would then be a manic Monday morning mental music stream. Anyway, the song came about just because it is Monday. Lindsey Buckingham wrote the short and straightforward Fleetwood Mac song. My awareness of it came about through a female friend. She was a big Lindsey Buckingham fan, always talking about how willing she was to bear his children. She and I served together at Clark Air Base in the Philippines. Wonder if she ever met him?

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax. Coffee is ready. Breakfast is served. Here’s the music. Cheers

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