I was a young US Army officer. I knew that WWI had ended a year or more before. As a lieutenant, I was strangely working alone. I’d come upon the wreckage of a country road that curved and went up and down a hill. I thought, if anyone is to use this road for any purpose, they’ll not be able, because it’s in a horrible state. The asphalt was torn up and debris littered the path, hindering any sort of swift passage. I took it upon myself to fix it, ordering others to bring me different types of materials and directing them to clear things away. When the materials were brought to me, I’d throw it on the ground, then jump on it to break it up, shuffle it into place with my shoes, and stamp it down. It was a remarkably effective process. I quickly had a flat, clear road. Both aspects pleased and astonished me.
A young woman, who was an Army captain, but who resembled my real life wife as a young woman, came along and inquired about what I was doing. I was almost finished by then. Seeing her, I was instantly smitten; I could see my feelings were reciprocated. Weirdly, she was dressed in gray sweat clothes, but I knew she was an Army captain. Affecting modesty, I bragged that I was fixing and improving the road for future use, suitably impressing her that I’d made that choice but that I was also doing it so well. A general officer and his staff came along in a jeep. They stopped to admire my work. The general asked, who was responsible. I claimed credit. He made a little speech about intelligent and motivated young men like myself being the country’s future. Then they drove off.
In a strange detour, the dream changed perspective. My dream camera focused first on a small crab in shallow water. I knew from watching it that it had become infected with something. My dream camera then showed a young woman in black clothing and back open-toe sandals come down. She stepped into the water. The infected crab crept into her shoe.
The dream perspective changed back to me. I was watching that young woman. She was now walking on the road that I’d fixed. I said to others with me, “She’s ill. We need to help her before it’s too late.” She collapsed, unconscious, at that moment. We rushed to her. As I bent to help her, I yelled at others to call for help. No one moved at first. I demanded more insistently that one of them call 911. He began looking around for a phone. With increasing exasperation, I told him to use his cell phone. He finally pulled it out and called 911. Help was already arriving, but the woman was dead and blue. Standing, I told the others, this is a warning, that we need to be vigilant because an infection is spreading.
I woke up thinking, this feels like Saturday. I knew it was Thursday and sacrificed about ten minutes thinking about why this Thursday felt like a Saturday. Only thing that emerged was that I had no reason to leap out of bed. No structure of rushing off to work, or hurrying somewhere to meet someone. No urgency to leave the house and go to a coffee shop and write. Yeah, we’re still under COVID-19 restrictions. I haven’t gotten the booster, and my wife has underlying issues. Well, I have some, too. Underlying issues is part of the aging gift package for many of us.
Anyway, today is Thursday, November 21, 2021. Lackluster weather. A bit of sunshine burst through and fired some joy through my synapses. Seeing this, a heavy cloud hurried over and blocked the sunshine. The temperature is 52 F and there’s no indication that it’ll get any warmer than 56 F. Sunrise came at 7:47 AM and sunset will launch at 6:01 PM. Basically, we’re coming down to eight hours of sunshine per day.
I’m a little aggro this morning. Feel like I’m on the precipice of my monthly trough, sliding down toward the dark waves. The cats didn’t help this AM. Opened one of their favorite foods. They all chowed down but one returned, asking for more. I fed him and he gobbled away. Then, as I was preparing my brekkie, he walked in and puked at my feet. Three facets then emerge: why did he puke? Just eating too much too fast? Two, damn it, there’s a mess to clean. Three, damn it, I’m hungry and I need to clean this up before I can eat my oatmeal. Bah.
Trying to get the vax booster is also agitating me. Websites are all, we have the boosters! Make an appointment. But. They then ask about which vaccine I’ve had. I received the J&J. These websites — RiteAid, Fred Meyers, Costco, the three primary sources for COVID-19 shots in our area — all then direct me to get a J&J booster. Which I don’t want; I desire a Moderna. This is per CDC guidance. All their websites say that as a J&J recipient, I can have whichever shot I prefer. Yet their appointment form won’t let that happen.
I complained to my friends last night about it. They clearly weren’t paying deep attention, telling me, “Just go to the Fred Meyers website, just go to the Costco website, just go to the RiteAid website.” Exasperating, n’est pas?
Other acquaintances relate that they made appointments only to show up and discover either the vaccine of the people to administer it wasn’t available. But others made appointments and got the shots, no prob. Seems like a dice game when it comes to getting the booster, just as it was back when we were trying to get the vax.
Oddly, perhaps, all this angst and irritation stems from having strong writing sessions. I get immersed in the writing; pulling out to participate in real world activity requires a major energy shift. I don’t want to give it many times. Just let me keep writing, damn it world.
I had “Sister Golden Hair” flowing through the morning mental music stream. A Rush song, “Show Don’t Tell” from 1989, supplanted it.
How many times do you hear it?
It goes on all day long
Everyone knows everything
And no one’s ever wrong
Who can you believe?
It’s hard to play it safe
But apart from a few good friends
We don’t take anything on faith
h/t to songlyrics.com
Ah, good music for this Thursday for me. Stay positive — hard some days, innit? — test negative, wear a mask as the situation requires, and get the vax and booster when you can. Now, excuse me, but a cuppa coffee is screaming my name. Here’s the music. Cheers.