The first dream was Friday night.
I dreamed that Nat was alive, but we all thought he was dead. And the whole time through the dream, we're all playing and interacting with both him and Asher and people kept telling me that he was dead, but they didn't act like it. Dream Marci was horrified and tried to explain to everyone that he was right there...alive! But no one would listen.
I chalked that up to Eustuce Scrubb syndrome-- you know, sleeping in a dragon's lair, thinking dragonish thoughts, is it any wonder?
But then, night before last, I had this dream.
I was going to a Red Sox game on opening day with Janice The game was actually being played at the JCC swmming pool in Louisville, but that was the stadium. Janice and I walked past the consession stand (outdoor snack bar area). On the one side is the snackbar and stadium, and on other side, making an aisle of sorts is posters of al the players taken from pictures of the previous season. I amuse myself by identifying as many players as I can, and I think I couldn't identify some of them. We get inside and are milling about when realise we don’t have a program, and we should have gotten one outside, I want to keep score.
Janice makes the obvious point that I don't need a program to keep score, just some paper, and that's a valid point which I'm about to argue with when we see we see Helen with Emma and I reaize she has a scorecard and lineup sheet, which totally makes sense because we love to scorekeep together. So I explain to Janice that as we're here, it makes sense to buy a scorecard for the lineup sheet which will help me identify players better. We go over to Helen and Emma and talk about the program and Helen sends me to a place inside the park that has one. We get into this long talk about how I don’t actually need a program, I just find it easier to keep score with one because all the names and numbers are written out for me in the lineup card.
We continue looking for the score card when we see Brian and Martha and Mom and Dad and they have a baby in hand. It’s not clear what event we’re at, or, and honestly, I called the baby Nat the entire dream, and truthfully, he wasn’t a baby, he was a small boy. Still carryable, but definitely big enough to walk. Anyway, he was good as gold during the service from what I could tell from the back rows.
I catch up with them as we’re filing out and mom and dad are talking about how they want to get Nat a puppy. Martha tells Brian that towards the end of the service or whatever it was, she saw Grandpa Nat, and Nat saw him too and started trying to get to him. And Brian who was carrying Nat held him up over his head in that way that parents do, just sort of lifting him and singing, “We’re gonna see grandpa. Who’s gonna see grandpa?”
Mom and Dad are talking about getting Nat a puppy and they’re going through breeds. I thought at first they were thinking of getting him a mutt, but dad suggests a Jack Russel Terrier. At the same time, Brian asks them where they’re getting all this money and tells them they can’t keep buying Nat presents all the time, other people want to be involved too.
I suggest that grandpa could get Nat the puppy. That’s when dad, who’s only half listening to us, suggests the Jack Russel. I don’t remember if something else happened before I woke up.
I woke up from that dream about 3:30ish in the morning.
Then I had this next dream.
I was returning home, presumably from this trip, to my apartment, which I have to tell you, was like no apartment I'd ever lived in. I got the mail, and a friend of mine, solies had been picking up my mail for me while I was away. In the mail slot was also a handwritten letter, not in an envelope. I didn't understand why if it was from solies it wasn't in the apartment. I read it as we went upstairs. The letter said that he never wanted to talk to me. He'd seen or heard some things from me that made it impossible for him to continue to be my friend. He was okay watching the apartment and mail for me because he'd committed to that, but he'd appreciate it if i never tried to contact him again.
I was reeling from that when I reached my apartment (3rd floor, obviously) to find the door was warped and bent out of shape and wouldn't shut. I opened the door and it was a huge mess everywhere. Most of the things were still there. I eventually discovered only my G5 Mac was missing. The TVs were still there, presumably because they weren't good enough to want to steal and everything else. And, we speculate in the dream, the mess was caused mostly by the contents of the refrigerator being dumped on everything. Someone who seemed to have a professional opinion, police maybe? Suggested it was because they'd invested effort breaking in and found so little they could use, so they wanted to get revenge on me for having nothing of interest (beyond the mac).
I called my mother sobbing. It was hard to decide what was more devestating, the letter from Solies or the break-in, but I was utterly crushed and I felt like I just couldn't take it. And I knew they were going through so much without me adding to it, but I honestly, felt so broken, I couldn't think of anything else to do. And she came and held me and afterwards I woke up.
I didn't think much of it, actually, I felt like it took away from the earlier dream of the night, the Red Sox dream. I got out of bed at 3:30 in the morning to write the Red Sox dream down so I wouldn't forget it. The robbery dream, I wanted to forget and didn't write down at all. And yet, I remember much of it. I even remember that the note Solies left me was written on yellow legal pad with blue ink and that some of the fridge contents dumped out around the apartment were moldy from being left to rot in the fridge, science experiments, we call food like that. I didn't relate it to anything until I had the dream last night.
A bunch of us were returning to my parents house to find a guy with a truck parked out back. At first, I thought it was someone Dad hired to work in the backyard, but then the truck was in the front yard and I realized we were being robbed. I didn't think the guy looked like a murder so I planted myself in front of the truck. He backed up and tried to turn away from me, but put myself in front of the truck again. He was frustrated and we ended up talking. I started working with him on a contract wherein we agreed that he wouldn't steal from us and we wouldn't prosecute him and we would render him some financial aid of some type, I think. I started working on the contract: It wasn't a "party of the first part" or "prosecution", but I used some p word to describe him and then while I was in the middle of the first sentence, Dad showed up. I explained the situation and insisted he help us finish and honour the contract. So he started working on the contract and then I woke up.