

Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I was in an ocean with others. Waves bobbed, moving me, but the water rose to my chest and I was standing on the sea floor. We were all waiting to hear if we were released by our company. We were all almost certain we were, so we were eager for a new position somewhere.
I’d learned of an opening and applaud, writing up a small resume of my skills and experience. The water shifted into a large room. People were at workstations, busy with their tasks. I’d never worked in an environment like that, I thought. Always had at least a cubicle but mostly had an office. Someone from the potential new company said, “We’ve set up a mock up of the new position workstation.” We all went up to take a look.
The station looked like a toy. Small green desk, tiny green chair, hardback, with a cushioned seat, and a small task lamp. A man was asleep beside it. No computer or phone. Someone asked if there would be a computer provided. “No,” was the answer given, “computers aren’t needed for this position.”
Disappointment roiled through me. I knew, I’m not getting that position. After soaking in that for a few minutes, I learned that I didn’t get the position. I also learned of friends and co-workers and their positions. I decided I would appeal to them. See if they could put in a word for me, knew of an opening, or hire me as their assistant.
Dream end.
He always bought her earrings when he traveled. He thought she would like some dangling seaglass ones with a smalls silver hoop. Arriving home, he carefully added it to the collection. Someday he’d meet her, and he’d watch her eyes when he gave her the earrings.
He was certain she’d have beautiful eyes.
It was a whole night of dreams again. In one, I was looking for employment after being released in a — well, I’ll do that in another post. Maybe.
Cloudy spring day rolling through Monday, 4/24/23 or 23/24/4. Almost sounds like a Chicago song title. Almost. Song is playing in my head now, though. Temperature is 45. 6:16 and 8:02 are the morning and evening numbers for Ashlandia’s sunrise and sunset. Humidity is declared 86%. Weather underlings slipped the word, high is 61 F.
Huh, breaking news, Tucker Carlson is out of Fox News. Gosh, I wonder what THAT’s all about.
In family news, a younger sister is sick. Deets aren’t coming yet. Little sisters #2 and #3 don’t know what’s up with #1. Mom has deets but didn’t share. #1 little sister, grandmother to two, always shades her life with secrecy.
Uncle B, 79, had a fifth heart attack. Had his first when he was 45, followed by open heart surgery. He’s been dealing since. I hear that steroid therapy is to be attempted. Don’t know more yet. Mom has that info, too. When I thought of Uncle B, I thought of him as the favorite. Not true. He’s youngest of Dad’s siblings — Dad is he oldest, 91 — but they’re all very alike, smart, good sense of humor, friendly, fun to be with. Dad is the different one.
Cats are doing well, thanks. With the clouds taking over, they’ve remained in and are sleeping in the living room.
Today’s song is “I Can Change” by LCD Soundsystems, 2010. I haven’t heard it for a while, but Alex Borstein and her companions played it on her comedy show on Prime. The Neurons heard it and now it’s in the morning mental music stream, although it shared the space with “25 or 6 to 4” for a wee while. I enjoyed her show, which was more than comedy. It’s information rich, too. For examp., I learned about a mush tat. Yeah, look it up.
Stay as pos as you can, which can sometimes be a sigh-pulling, deep breaths experience. Least for me. May your Monday be better than you planned it. Here’s the coffee and music. Cheers
SEGP (pronounced seagep) (floofinition) – Flooflosophy followed by many housepets, SEGP is sleep, eat, groom, play. Floof SEGP adherents, often called seageptians, believe following the flooflosophy helps them achieve a longer, more satisfying life.
In use: ‘When the young cat met the household’s established bird resident, the latter told the cat, “We follow SEGP in this house.” The cat replied, “I’m not familiar with that.” The bird answered, “See the dog. He’ll teach you.”‘
A long time known
Watching them grow
Kisses and hisses, barks and growls
Friendship and watchfulness
Without churches, witnesses or vows
They’re there for you and you for them
Fur people fur minders fur irritants
Fur friends
Are you ready for a funny underwear story? I have none like this. Seems like nothing funny ever happens to me — or Suzanne has great skill at creating comedy out of anything.
On Wednesday, I decided to do some laundry. When I went to take the clothes out of the dryer, it turned out I was missing a pair of underwear. This may sound like a First World problem, but it was my LUCKY pair of underwear. And I was pretty upset because what the hell happened to my lucky underwear? I’m pretty sure it went INTO the dryer, so where did it go? Is there really an alternate universe where a strange little leprechaun-type man says “Ooh, that’s just lovely. Feel that fabric! I MUST have this lucky underwear which is most certainly somebody’s favourite!” and then you never see it again until there’s a rainbow?

I checked the washing machine AND the dryer at least twice more and there was no sign of it. Then I searched my closet—same thing. Then I backtracked and followed my…
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Dreams about being a hero or celebrity but also about being unknown or not recognized have proliferated the past dream week. One stays strongest in mind.
A minor celebrity, I was visiting somewhere after being on tour. I was my real age in this and had stopped at someone’s invitation and met a group of teenagers. I didn’t know them and they didn’t know me. They were cold, even hostile to me, which amused me. I didn’t care, but enjoyed watching what they were doing. On a stage, they were putting together a game. Their purpose and rules were totally lost on me but I was engrossed with trying to understand them. Multiple sexes, races, ethnicities, cultures were present. They were a bubbly group.
Supplies arrived. They were given to me. Seeing them, I had an idea for a game for them and began employing these stickers for the idea. The stickers were different shapes and colors. Halfway through, I realized, oh, shit, they had plans for these. I began putting the stickers back where they belong. One young woman came up and chastised me, then took the stickers, complaining that I’d ruined them. I apologized. It wasn’t accepted.
By then, I’d learned what their game was all about. I then criticized them about being insular and isolated. I told them they had some great ideas but they should share them with others. They soberly listened and then one identified me as a writer which she’d seen on television. Yeah, yeah, that’s me. They warmed to me then. One, in a white sweater and red pants, came to me and asked me about my foundation. Was it true? Did I really have it? Yes, I did, it was set up to help youth have food and shelter security and encourage education and learning. And, she asked, was I really supporting 5,000 children? The number surprised me, but I verified with my assistant, yes, that’s true. There are 5,000.
End dream
Note: Another post which WordPress refused to save or published, forcing me to do it in stages. Create a base, add and change, add and change more. Irritating AF.
Sunday used to be the day for going out and doing things fun. Might not be so for your culture or region. I know Sunday was held back by many families for worship and visiting with other families, or for quiet days at home. But for mine, a day of rest meant going on picnics, hitting the beach, grilling out, or going to movies or amusement parks. If not that, it was back to playing ball, some kind, somewhere.
I was a shift worker for the first ten years of my military career, which diluted Sunday’s importance. As hourly and shift workers know, your schedule dictates the day of the weeks for your personal agenda. Monday is the first day of work and Friday is your last, regardless of the true date. Naturally, there were clashes between my work week and the real world work week. If real Sunday is my Friday, work would be generally quiet in the military but the urge to cut loose and relax was there. Really didn’t happen on Sunday. Also, I worked rotating shifts so my Friday ended at 6 or 7 AM, after an 8- or 12-hours shift.
Today is Sunday, April 23, 2023. 56 F, we expect 68 F. Rained during the night, and the ground is drying as clouds cut out the sunshine and its effects. But after entering Ashlandia’s air at 6:17 this morning, the sun has tangoed around the clouds, limning gray edges with silver. It is spring out there, to which I say, huzzah. Sunset will take Ashlandia’s sun away at 8:02 PM. The cats are certainly enjoying it, luxuriating in sunshine whenever they stop to wash, watch, play, or sleep.
Having just returned from a short vacay, I’m already contemplating another. Getting into the spirit, The Neurons (TN, as they like to be called) brought up Weezer’s 2001 medley, “Island in the Sun”. I like the mellow tune about being relaxed. It’s a keeper.
Hit the refresh button. Begin again, another day, another effort, another chance, another outcome. Stay pos. Here we go with Weezer. Hip, hip. I’m off for coffee. Hip, hip. Cheers
Note or two: Saving or publishing this post today was a pain. WP wouldn’t load. Wouldn’t save a draft of this. Hung while trying to publish, once, twice, thrice. MW, other posts were created. Just this one wouldn’t go up. Drove me nuts. Of course, most things drive me nuts when they won’t work as expected. Was finally able to publish by not putting in any tags, etc. So it was published in stages – post, a few categories, added words and changes, next a few tags, finally the last of the tags.