I binged vivid dreams again last night. The most striking one found me as an alien. I didn’t look like one; I looked human as I do now, though younger.
Living among humans, I’d been hired by a secret government agency to infiltrate a group of five women and get close to them. My employers thought the women were the aliens. The five were gorgeous women, I guess in their thirties, intelligent and educated. The five didn’t know that I knew all of them. Each thought that I was having a relationship with them. I quickly became intimate with three of them. The other two held me off a bit, moving more cautiously. I was comfortable with that because I knew those two didn’t need to be intimate to spill their secrets. They just needed to trust me, and they did.
The whole time, I knew they were humans, and not aliens, but I yielded to the agency’s desires to find intelligence on them because this allowed me insight into the government’s analysis and planning.
Then, recovering one of my alien powers, I duplicated myself so that I could be with all five women simultaneously. To further my endeavor, I also created a dup of me that met with my bosses. I had one mind shared among the six so I could gather greater understanding. I treated the whole thing as a lark.
Then, dream pivot, I was called out from those locations. I was being given a prize, a high honor to recognize my great contributions. I didn’t know what they were talking about but being the devious mutt that I was, I was eager to accept these accolades. Five of my six beings had to be re-integrated into one, as easily done as walking through a door.
The worst part of it was that reintegrating into one made me appear about five years younger than before. As people saw me and remarked in astounded tones about my youthful appearance, I laughed it off and told them it came from easy living.
We’re rocking October’s first week of ’22 in the Steel City. Yesterday delivered a gorgeous day of 70 and a mildly cloudy sky. Will today to the same?
A bright sunshine unveiled clear skies and a calendar-worthy autumn dawn at 7:22 this morning. Sunset will be at 6:53 PM. Meanwhile, it’s 47 degrees F with a high of 19 degrees C in the forecast. Among the trees’ greenery, leaves are shimmering with reds, blazing with yellows, stirring in gold and orange. Today is Thursday, October 6, 2022.
Animal activies have waned in the yard since autumn throttled summer and declare its intentions. One deer in the past three days. Chipmunks are busy, the red squirrel and gray squirrels aren’t seen as much, and the ground hog only made one appearance. More birds are active and present. I wonder if this is part of their staging to head south.
I’m suffering computer constipation problems. Things don’t want to load. Small messages in the corner announce things like “Waiting for google analytics” as the little thing at the top spins like a clothes dryer drum with a heavy, wet load. Tedious beginning to the day. Haven’t had my morning cuppa coffee so my brain cries out, “Alas, alas, why me, cruel world, why me?”
Musically, The Neurons loaded “Movin’ On” by Bad Company from 1974 onto the pathways. Sis and I were driving around on errands yesterday. Familiars from my past ferreted their way into the moment. Like, hey, I know this road. So-and-so lived up there. This street looks familiar. Oh, yeah, and there’s where that guy jumped John. Well, we were driving from town to town, and although The Neurons also loaded a few other songs in response to the memory cycle, “Movin’ On” won the morning mental music loop.
Now I must get coffee, ‘kay? Stay pos and so on, ‘kay? Here’s the tune. Close your eyes and relive the seventies for a mo’.