The Hotel Dream

Several memorable aspects emerged from this dream. My wife and I, younger folks, had bought an older place. Having moved in, we discovered it was a hotel and we had several guests. I knew them; all were male salesmen, white, with short black hair, wearing suits, with very broad shoulders. They looked like ex-offensive line men and I knew one had been. Right after I realized they were in the rooms, they began checking out. Turned out there were three.

The first salesman checking out forced me to realize that I didn’t know what was happening. Scrambling to catch up, I went through the small hotel. Dinghy wallpaper was hung, which I declared needed to be replaced. At least three stories were found. The rooms were small and the halls were tall and narrow. Several cats were present. I began taking care of them while inventorying the hotel. It was dilapidated, with a strange, brownish carpet which was bare in many spots. The salesman was ready to go and needed to pay and get a receipt. I found a system hidden behind pieces of paper taped to the top of them. The paper were notes to staff about how to use the system according to the header on one, but all were blank.

I wrote out a receipt longhand for the guest, thinking through all the line items a receipt like that should have. He was comfortable with that and prompted me, “You also need the date.” I then signed it. Holding up a fat tome, he mentioned he had a paperback book that was in the room and wanted to take it with him. I told him, “No charge,” because we had bought it used at a Goodwill for a quarter.

My wife, who’d been wandering around the place rushed over, urging me to charge him, complaining, “That’s why we’re losing money.”

I told her that I didn’t think a quarter would break us. We argued about little things adding up. I noticed that the carpet’s edges were green.

Meanwhile, I was thinking, I need to organize a checkout system. I removed the papers from atop the system and found a small gray system. Looking very old, it was turned off and didn’t seem to be attached to anything. I decided not to use it but just do everything by hand myself. The second man showed up to checkout. This went better, but he had to tell me when he arrived because I had no idea.

I realized by this point that the odd carpet was withered grass. Finding a spray bottle of water, I began walking around, spraying the grass to encourage it to grow back. As I did, I discovered petunias and tulips springing up in full bloom and called out to my wife, “Hey, look, we have flowers in our yard.” I was thinking as I did this it would be lovely to have a lush green lawn as my carpet. This lawn was full of weeds. That didn’t worry me; I would pull the weeds. Since they were inside, the weeds shouldn’t return as long as I kept pulling them when they appeared and watered the grass. Many parts of it were already green and restored. I would let the flowers stay.

At this point, the third man arrived to check out. Since I was working on the carpet-lawn, I told her to check him out and explained what to do, which she did.

After that, a very slick-appearing man in a uniform appeared. He introduced himself as ‘the major’ and showed me so beautiful shiny blue things which he’d acquired from foreign countries. He wanted to display them for sale in my hotel. My wife was instantly against that, telling me, “Don’t give him any money.” I informed the man that I wasn’t paying anything or giving money or security in any form, no security deposits, nothing, and that we would not be liable for his objects. He seemed to be agreeing with that. Then he sat down and put his legs up. His feet were replaced by prosthetics. I asked him if that happened in the war, and he said, “Yes.”

Dream end.

The House Buying Dream

My wife was buying a house. The street address numbers were either 124 or 214. She was also buying it for either $124,000 or $214,000. She kept it as a secret from me, and it was supposed to be an investment.

I’m not certain how I learned what she was doing, but the dream was taking place on the night she was closing the deal. She was buying the home in her original home state, but we were at home, and her sister, B, was visiting.

Other guests were present, including a young airman who’d serve with me at different locations, R, and a young officer, J. They were all at my house, which was a large condo located downtown. R and I were walking around talking. We were reminiscing about racing. I was particularly remembering that R had worried a few years before that he was going to be exposed because he’d been racing in one league. The other league didn’t know about it, and he was worried about their reaction.

At one point, I was on a large, well-furnished landing. R and I were talking. J joined us, drawn by the conversation. It switched to houses. I commented that this was the only place that I owned. J said, “Well…”

I asked and he confirmed if he was talking about my wife’s secret deal. I told him I’d overheard people talking about it, and I wasn’t worried; she was doing it as an investment. I was confused about the address being either 124 or 214 Maxwell, and then realized that the price was also those numbers.

J had been staying with us in a guest suite off that landing. I talked about how it’s a nice suite, but it’s in an odd location, out of the way, so you’re often forgotten, but you often overhear things being said on the landing because people forget you’re there.

Many sirens were going on outside. R and I went out to the street and stood on the sidewalk, trying to learn what was going on. It was night, and it had been raining. The sellers were starting to arrive. I knew them, didn’t like them, and wanted to avoid them. I thought this was probably one reason that my wife was keeping her purchase a secret.

R, J, and I returned to inside. It was now later. R was saying good-bye, and J was saying good-night. My sister-in-law, B, was talking about saying good-night, and then we talked about movies and music as my wife joined us. I had to unwrap my feet. They were in bandages. As I did that, the others left.

I turned on a movie. It was a huge screen, but I worried about the sound because the guest room where my sister-in-law, so I turned the sound down. I was watching an old favorite movie, but I don’t know the title. As I began watching, I resumed unwrapping my feet and inspected them. My feet looked fine.

The dream ended.

 

A Healing Massage Dream

I experienced many dreams last night. One of the most interesting ones was the healing dream.

I’d been walking and my feet hurt, so I sat to massage them. A man sat beside me. Large and black, his head was as round and bald as a basketball.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“Massaging my feet because they hurt.”

“I can help you with that.” He held his hands up. They glistened with oil. “I have the power.”

“Okay, cool.”

Taking my feet, he rocked back and forth, humming and massaging them. Skin sloughed off my feet. Pain and soreness went with it.

He finished and rose. “Thanks,” I said. “That was amazing. I really appreciate it.”

Nodding and waving, he said, “No problem,” and then ambled off.

I was still sitting when a woman then approached me. I couldn’t get a clear look at her. It seemed like a misty gauze moved with her, but from glimpses, she seemed slender, young, and white. She wore light blue but her arms were bare. She said, “You look like you could use a massage.”

I debated it and then said, “Okay, sure.”

Darkness fell around us until we were in a circle of yellow-white light. The air grew cooler. She began massaging my chest and shoulders. Her hands and arms went into my chest. I could suddenly see into my chest. Her fingers embraced my heart and massaged it. Shocked and amazed, I just sat there, gawking.

A little girl ran up. The woman took my heart out of my chest. It looked like a piece of fried chicken. She gave it to the girl, who gave the woman a new heart.

As the girl ran off with my fried-chicken heart, the woman put the new heart inside of me. “That feel better?”

I couldn’t speak because I felt so amazed, so I nodded.

“Good.” Shifting her hands, she began massaging my lungs. Air rushed into them like never before. As she massaged me, my perspective changed, so that I was now watching her from outside of myself. Next, she massaged my liver, and then my stomach, and then moved her hands up, and massaged my head. I held my breath as I saw her squeezing, shaping, and re-shaping my brain.

“There,” she said. “Done.” She was gone, and I was back in my body.

I awoke feeling like I’d been scrubbed clean from the inside out.

Perverse & Fascinating

My wife told me about foot masks, so I asked her to buy me some. She did. Applied them last Sunday. Got to peel off my first skin today.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑