I was changing for a party. I think we were all at our house, although it didn't look like a house I remember. The first floor was similar to my parents house, and the second floor was completely unfamiliar.
Cousins had asked for permission to get something from their mom's suitcase so I said okay since she wasn't there. I didn't supervise, I was downstairs. Later I went upstairs to dress for the party. I was wearing a white slick (like rayon or a nylon varient) nightgown and robe. I kept tightening the robe to keep my shoulders covered. I remembered this because at one point I answered the door and the guy who was there asked me why I kept retying my robe. I don't remember who was at the door. Hoppie maybe?
I went upstairs to take a shower. There was a bedroom to the right of the stairs, and two bedrooms facing the stairs. Mine and my aunt's. The kids were staying on the next floor up. To the left of stairs was a bank of pink showers. I kept going back and forth to my room for things, I'd pick up shampoo, but then I'd need a towel, and then I'd need soap. I remember the feel of the water on my hair, so I did eventually get to my shower. Somewhere in there, my aunt started yelling at me for letting the cousins go thruogh her stuff as they apparently made a huge mess, and I think might have taken something they weren't supposed to have. I felt bad, but I also felt that she was shooting the messenger. The cousins are old enough to behave responsibly. Should I have stood over them and watched them to make sure they were behaving? I certainly had no intention of going through my aunt's luggage myself. I was, at least, smart enough to not say anything to my aunt.
Afterwards I dressed. (no idea what in. For all I remember, I went back to my robe and nightgown), and I left to go to the party with some people, but we weren't sure where it was. Someone drove us to a friend's synagogue (seriously.), but I knew the party wasn't there. It was somewhere after that. Then I was up in my study (another unfamiliar place) for a CDs. I was trying to find a specific song I was supposed to bring to the party for the DJ. The majority of the back wall was full of my CDs, but this one wasn't a commercial CD, it was a burned CD. At one point I looked out and saw some type of party in the backyard, and the shed beyond. I wondered if the CD might be in the shed, but I felt like it should be in the study. So I was looking at CD after CD desperately looking, I remembered some of the titles when I first woke up, but now I only remember the two Belinda Carlisle CDs. Greatest Hits vol 2, and Best of Belinda. (no idea if those are real albums. I actually own zero Belinda Carlisle, although I have some Go-Gos on compilation CDs). Anyway, after I saw those CDs, I started singing (outloud) "Circle in the Sand" while I continued looking. I pulled a CD off the stack and put it down on the table on the other side of me. There was a woman next to me and she asked me what I was looking for. I should have asked her what she was doing in my study, but it seemed normal that other people be there. So we started talking and while we were talking I noticed tearing out of the corner of my eye. There had been a guy (he was there with a buddy) pulling the plastic off the CD sleeve I'd put on the table. So I demanded to know why he'd done it. Then I tried to soften my demand by saying, I wasn't angry, I just wanted to know why he'd felt compelled to do it. And he sorta shrugged and said it seemed like the thing to do.
"Okay. I said, I usually leave them on to protect the cases from dust."
"Rust." he corrected.
"what?" says I?
"Rust. The plastic protects the CD cases from rusting."
"Oh." I'm a little puzzled.
Then I woke up.
Rust? Like that's a real danger with a plastic jewel case or paper sleeve.
And since I woke up "Circle in the Sand" has been stuck in my head. Kill me, please.