Sentimental Journey

What a relief, I said to myself when I woke up this morning after a frustrating dream.

Of course, I didn’t know it was a dream when I was in it, spinning my wheels trying to get help, blaming myself for doing a dumb thing.

The way it started is I’d gone out for brunch with two friends. Two friends known very well to me in the dream it seems, but not people I know in my real life.

When we arrived at the restaurant’s parking lot, someone that was a friend of one of the friends I was with came out of the restaurant.

The two did a what’s up thing, were laughing, joking; and, at this point, the second person I was with seemed to have vanished from the dream …… it was then just my one friend, and his friend that had exited the restaurant, who seemed to work at the restaurant, had on a server type jacket.

The two talked about doing something that required them to get in a car, drive away.

Evidently, I myself had driven to the scene. We'd arrived at the restaurant in my white jeep, which required my friend to need to use my car.

I tossed the key fob to my friend’s friend, and the two left the parking lot.

I waited for their return, and I waited, and I waited, and I waited.

It seems I waited for hours before determining something wasn’t right.

Then I began kicking myself …… How could you be so stupid as to toss your keys to someone you don’t know? …… Why didn’t you think? …… Why would you allow someone else to drive your car? …… What about the insurance liability of letting someone else drive? yada yada yada.

I did not have my cellphone. Don’t know if I’d left in the car or what, so I went inside, asked the person at the front desk to call the police for me.

He didn’t take me seriously. Scoffed at me. Brushed me away. I didn’t like his attitude, but what could I do.

Back out on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, I approached a couple I saw that had a cellphone out, asked if I could use it.

They graciously allowed me to call the police.

Back inside the restaurant with the police, I suggested I’d been scammed, that the person at the front desk seemed to be involved, and there must be surveillance to identify the two people on the parking lot, which were my friend and my friend’s friend; that possibly the police could track the car from info gathered from the cameras. The thought of lojack came to mind …… did I have it installed?

It was at this point that I woke up.

My first sensation was relief. Thank God that was a dream, thought I as I began my morning ritual.

Details of the dream stuck with me, which is unusual because I generally forget a dream as soon as I awaken. However, as I preprepared to seize the day, the frustration I'd felt in the dream remained front and center in my thoughts … the tossing of keys to that guy.

Since the dream would not let go, I began dissecting it, asking myself "What does it mean?".

"Warning Dream", myself replied and, when I heard that, I knew exactly what the warning was about.

Just the night before, I’d booked myself into a hotel I’d never been to before (6/13- 6/15).

Looking into hotel parking, I’d learned parking at the actual hotel is Valet only at $60 a day. The other option is parking offsite … a garage across the street from the hotel.

Thinking the garage parking might not be all that safe insofar as theft of property pilfered from the trunk or glove compartment, I was planning to foot the bill for Valet Parking. That is, I was willing to pay the charges until I had that warning dream about tossing keys to a guy I did not know.

Due to the hassle of my food issues, trips are no longer in my wheelhouse and, having recently seen how a person can go to bed at night and not wake up the next morning, I no longer assume, no longer plan ahead. However, this trip is something I have to plan for and muster through because it involves LA Pride. I feel compelled to do it for my baby girl.

It’s a great way to honor the memory of Twin 1, acknowledge the work she did in contributing to the care and feeding of the homeless members of the LGBTQ+ community; and the organizers want to provide a parade car or float, with family involvement.

Emotional as I get, when Twin 1’s name comes up, I think the joyous atmosphere will make it so I can do this for her without crying myself the whole route down Hollywood Boulevard.

At any rate, I'll be bypassing Valet Parking, opting instead to take my chances with the garage across the street.

I Read Books and I Know Things

Maybe it’s just me, but this last week has been the longest week ever, felt like it took forever for today, Friday, to come.

The good news is that, because I seemed to have more hours to each day of this week, a lot got done.

Along with my normal schedule of working out, blogging, running errands, needlepoint, scrapbooking, TV watching, playing Candy Crush and the hours and hours and hours spent on TikTok, I was able to finish reading Walter Mosley’s Every Man a King and got well into The In-Between by hospice nurse Hadley Vlahos.

Hadley, who started her career as a nursing intern in the ER, segued into hospice care and shares visitations/spiritual encounters she’s observed her patience experience in their final moments.

It’s a fascinating read — not sad but, inasmuch as I empath, I’ll be reading along, find tears running down my face and, at other times, I’ll be smiling and/or laughing out loud.

It’s definitely a book that makes you think and brought up from the memory vault a visitation dream I had in October of 2021.

I dream a lot a lot a lot, which is exhausting. I wake up tired more often than not and mostly, when I awaken, the dream escapes me, is completely forgotten.

However, there are times when, upon awakening, remembering every aspect of the dream, I immediately reach over for the pen and journal I keep by the side of the bed to write it down before it too disappears into the ethers.

Such was the case when, in 2021, I’d written "M came to me in a dream last night. He was still about 3 years old. I hugged him, kissed him over and over. There was also a lean white guy present. Gay. Fun. Said he didn’t drive his car. So, when time for him to leave asked if I could drive him to the pier to catch his boat back home. I said okay".

The journal entry went on to say that, for some reason, after agreeing to drive the guy to the pier, I decided instead to call him an Uber and that later, thinking back on the dream, I deduced the guy was a "Grim Reaper. A fun reaper."

It seemed logical to me that, if a Grim Reaper did come to take me away, it would be a gay guy because I’d not trust or feel comfortable with a straight.

For a while after the dream, I pondered what would have happened had I gone through with driving the Reaper guy to the "pier", then I forgot all about it.

Reading The In-Between is bringing it all back and has me once again pondering ...... Was his asking me to drive him to the pier my opportunity to exit out of here? What would have happened had I followed through?

Will They or Won’t They?

Two more days to Arrest Day.

I’ve got a bottle of champagne ready and I'm already wearing my thoughts and hopes.

Other than waiting to see if you know who will be booked, fingerprinted and have to submit to a booking photo, not a lot going on as it’s been pretty tame around here lately.

Except for that glimpse when he first moved in, and then one day when he was walking down the quad to the mail box, I haven’t seen the new resident of the bad energy unit. He seems to be busy elsewhere — still holding down a job probably, and does not spend much time in his unit. Which is probably a good thing considering the history of that unit.

Red Light has done no more venting on Facebook, but that may be because she’s working on getting herself a new best friend — the resident that told me I might as well turn around as last Tuesday’s event was cancelled (let’s call her Homegirl, for reasons you can probably guess).

I’ve had a few friendly encounters with Homegirl, as she’s been showing up regularly to events, but have not yet got all up in her business — asking how long she’s been here … is she new … where was she before … yada yada yada?

I did notice however, at last weeks bingo, Red Light appeared to be courting favor with Homegirl — probably hoping to fill the hole left by Talker dumping her as Red Light’s best bud, but Homegirl doesn’t look like the type that wants or needs a close friendship in the complex.

We’ll see how that goes.

Our Karen character is no longer blog fodder as she long ago gave up complaining in her quest to run Talker out of her unit.

Talker is showing no signs of following through on her plans to move out for non-Karen reasons. Last year, she did say she was thinking about moving in with her daughter this year, to help out with the kids, but shows no sign of leaving any time soon.

Talker’s granddaughter — which it turns out is her great granddaughter, has ceased knocking on my door.

A good thing.

However, I did on Wednesday have a nightmare that, after returning from a long drive with the relative I’ve been worried about — a long drive that had me lost and struggling to find my way through unfamiliar roads, I finally found my way back to the complex, had barely walked into my unit and closed the door when I heard a knock.

It was she — the little Knock Knock.

It’s not bad enough that I’m tossing and turning worrying about relatives to the point I’ve acquired worry lines under my eyes and feel like I’ve aged ten years in the last few weeks, all I need is for Talker’s great granddaughter to haunt my dreams as well.

Speaking of relatives, during a break in the rain a few days ago, I got laundry out of the way and while in the Laundry Room, I opened the door of a front facing washer and coins flew out — pennies and a nickel.

I shared this as a comment to another blogger's post, but don't recall sharing on this blog before, that my sister told granddaughter, when she passed away, she would leave quarters around to let us know she was here in some manner or form.

Sure enough, since sister passed, I’ve had bright shiny new quarters suddenly appear along my path and in unusual places — most recently, in the Pain Cave underneath the equipment I was working on.

In fact, quarters so often appear in the Pain Cave that when spotted by Trainer, he’ll point it out and say, "Your sister is here".

Once, when it was a lesser coin, Trainer asked, "Is this someone you know?" Lol.

Seeing all these coins pop out of the washing machine, as I opened the door, one could assume the previous user had coins in the pocket of something they washed, missed seeing the coins when they removed the wet wash, so I didn’t give it much thought. However, when I later opened a dryer and a quarter popped out, I figured sister was letting me know she was visiting and had brought various ancestors with her — maybe my brothers, but who knows.

At any rate, I didn’t know who the others were so, when done in the Laundry Room, I took sister with me, left the others.

Arrest Day is also Pizza Tuesday, and the Activity Calendar shows Activity Director hosting another event, or attempting to host — dependent on management giving her the money budgeted for supplies this time ... "Start Your Own Healthy Garden! Learn about healthy herbs and start your own garden! Seeds and planters will be provided."

That’s something that really interests me so, come rain or shine, I’ll go down to the Community Room, see if it's two times in a row not happening, or a class attached, or a complete bait and switch.

Stay tuned.

Outta Here

I’ll be away from the laptop until after the holiday.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, Turkey Day, Stolen Land Day, Thanksmas ─ if you’re one of those who has the tree up already, jumped straight through to Christmas.

BTW, yesterday’s dream did not take into account the cost-of-living increases. Instead of the $45 and change in the dream, it was $98 and change for incidentals at the pharmacy in real life.

Awoke with a Clatter

I was sleeping peacefully last night when all of a sudden I became wide awake real quick upon hearing what sounded like something hitting a window in the front room.

Sitting up in bed, not hearing anything further, I thought it might have been the Santa Ana winds, plaguing us for a week now, blowing something up against a window but then, thinking the wise thing would be to investigate, I grabbed a weapon from the nightstand, took a look around.

Nothing amiss.

No broken window.

Saw no one lurking outside.

Getting back in bed, realizing it was 3:10 a.m., I thought Great! I’m awake now, won’t be able to fall back asleep. It’s going to be a crappy day.

Grabbing the laptop, I jumped online, read a few blogs, browsed the web until, along about 5 a.m., I felt sleepy again, shut the laptop, lay back down on the pillow.

My next memory of last night was a dream ……

Purchasing items from a pharmacy, the bill coming to a little over $45 and change, I saw myself reaching into the fanny pack, removing and giving to the cashier a $50 bill.

Looking back on that dream, it was the perfect opportunity to try the TikTok Lucid Dream challenge, where one is to attempt to interact with others in the dream — ask a question, preferably "What date is this?" or "What time is it?", but I didn’t remember to do that because it's incredibly difficult to remember to do so when dreaming. Plus, I was thrown off by the drama that ensued.

After paying the $45 and change, having a nice chit chat with the cashier as she bagged my items, I suddenly realized she’d not given me my change.

Asking her for the change, she said "I’ve heard that one before".

Huh, thought I.

"I’ve heard that one before" she repeated.

Not realizing I was being insulted, called a liar, I checked the fanny pack, saw there were no bills added after I removed the $50.

Looking back up at her, I don’t recall what I said, but she said something about it would only have been a few dollars, so I was thinking she was right. Why worry about a few dollars and was prepared to write it off, walk away.

But then, I saw a smirk on her face that caused me to realize that when she said, "I’ve heard that one before", she actually thought I was trying to scam her and she felt she’d beaten me at my scammer’s game.

It was then I stood firm, told her "Count the drawer".

I’d knew that if the receipts were totaled up and compared with what was in her drawer, she’d find she had more money than she should because she’d forgotten to give me my change.

She disappeared for a few minutes, returned with her manager who was grumbling about having to count the drawer ..... her Black manager. She herself, the clerk, was White.

I said something about wanting my name cleared, that I shop here often and don’t want to have to feel I was being looked at suspiciously over something I did not do.

"Count the drawer" said I to Black Manager.

There were two ladies in line over to my left observing. Both backed me up on that theory — that it was not the amount of money but the principle.

Black Manager didn’t care for their input and, at one point, he leaned over the counter and began cursing one of the ladies to high high heaven.

She cursed right back at him whereupon, I took out my cellphone, and said to Black Manger, "This is so going live!" and I began recording while wiggling my arse and singing over and over to him a refrain that went … "You gone lose your job, you gone lose your job today. You gone lose your job, you gone lose your job today, hey hey".

As I was dancing/singing, there was a commotion over to my left as the woman cursing back at Black Manager was either being held back or removed by someone I didn’t see.

Then, the alarm on the cellphone went off and woke me up.

It was 7:00 a.m. and the dream went unfinished/unresolved.

It was an exhausting night.

I'm feeling so tired now that I can barely lift my feet off the ground, and this is a Pain Cave workout morning.

Oddly enough, the plan for today is, after working out, to head to the pharmacy across the street, pick up a few items to take with me as I head out to the beach area tomorrow.

Wouldn’t it be spooky if the bill comes to $45 and change.

Rained In

Plan for today was to head back to the craft store, nab that coffee cup before they sell out — if they haven’t already, but it’s raining too hard to go anywhere.

The sky opening up, pouring out all this rain, is like an omen as to how I feel today’s election is going to end …… many of us in tears for years to come.

It rains so seldom here and, when it does, it’s not unusual to see it rain in the morning, see the sun come out in the afternoon, everything dry up to where one would never know it rained at all, so that can happen. However, barring a break in the rain, I won’t be able to make it to the craft store until Thursday.

Thinking I can probably just buy the cup online, I see I can … but not from that craft store because online is sold out already.

Evidentially, I ran up on this year’s hot ticket item.

Must be a lot of women out and proud about living the single lifestyle.

There was one other online option, but obviously the seller is aware the cup is a hot item, because he’s raised the price by an additional $15 over the craft store price.

That’s a nope for me.

Thinking back … when I abandoned my cart, I should have hidden the cup to be retrieved when I came back.

So, unless things change, Thursday will be my next try at that cup.

Speaking of lasts, today is the last day of Mildred’s 30 Songs in 30 Days Challenge, today’s challenge being "A song that reminds you of yourself".

Unlike my girl Lizzo, I was not born with confidence in myself — the "shine" she describes as causing those that come into her atmosphere to also shine.

I've slowly grown into my shine, have confidence in spades now, and this is how I currently see myself.

Not looking for a new challenge, I was nevertheless intrigued by TikTok’s Lucid Dream challenge.

The way it works is that when one is asleep, having a dream that feels vivid and real, but you know you’re dreaming, you are to attempt to interact with others in the dream — ask a question, preferably "What date is this?" or "What time is it?".

Some young people have reported success in asking the questions, with various reactions from those in the dream. However, I’m taking Judge Judy’s position on the veracity of young people these days — that "If their mouth is moving, they’re lying".

There is, however, one middle-aged guy who seemed credible when he said, upon asking his dream brother what time it was, he heard a head full of whispers that expressed concern he had become conscious and was starting to ask questions.

I found it terribly interesting and, inasmuch as most of my dreams are lucid, I’ve actually been working on trying to remember to ask the question for over a week, with little results. Except one time, when I realized I'd made it into the dream only to simultaneously become aware that I was inappropriately dressed.

Seated at a conference table with others, I was initially simply dreaming the dream, observing in a sleep state. Then I guess, it began to work that I became aware of dreaming and suddenly I myself was no longer observing but seated at the table.

At this point, I simultaneously became aware I was inappropriately dressed, had forgotten to put a blouse on, was seated in a bra; And not just ANY bra, but a brown bra that I actually own. Whereupon the woman seated on my right gave me a wrap to put around my shoulders, at which point I woke myself up from the dream altogether.

I think the bra thing was to block me/distract me. Consequently, succeeding in this challenge may take some time.

BTW, taking commenter Drum Major’s suggestion, that errant quilting needle now resides up the nose of No. 45’s voodoo doll … both the needle and thread that came with it.

Bad Penny

Remember that dental office I asked to take me off their patient list … the one I blasted in a Yelp review? Well, just like the proverbial bad penny, they’ve turned up again.

There was a message on my phone, timed shortly after 3PM Tuesday, saying they were calling to "schedule an appointment to continue my treatment plan".

That would be the treatment plan the dentist wrote up for an additional $5,000+ worth of unnecessary dental work, over the $3,000 or so he got outa me before I woke up.

I gotta give it to them for chutzpa.

This is the first time I’ve had a dental office call ME in what can only be interpreted as a move to drum up business, rather than my calling to schedule necessary care. 

So, does this mean they’ve milked all they can from us long-time clients of the office before they took over? Are we leaving in droves? Is business declining to where they are now desperate?

I dunno but I won’t be giving them the courtesy of a return call to repeat "take me off your patient list, I’ve moved on".

This week has been moving fast. Can’t believe it’s Friday already, and up until Wednesday it has been a very good week. THEN I had one of those convoluted overwhelming dreams that can’t be interpreted but left me with a sense of there being a disturbance in the force.

That dream was followed by my tossing and turning all of last night, resulting in waking up this morning somewhat exhausted as I try to figure out if this sense of dread/disturbance in the force is related to something going on in the family or has to do with residents here at the complex or elsewhere.

Unfortunately, I can never pinpoint where this sense of uneasiness will land. It's a time will tell kinda thing.

Last time I went through this was when it landed elsewhere.

I still think of him often and fondly. He was so fun.

Picking up mail yesterday, I halfway expected to see that random woman availing herself of our pool again. Instead, it was a resident I didn’t recognize and what I assume to be her three grandkids.

As I responded to a comment by blog buddy Mike, over at Billions of Visions of Normal, that the pool has no cover, is subject to direct sunlight, I’d assumed the water was warm, rather than refreshingly cool, so I asked the kids "Is the water warm?"

They assured me "No. It’s cold".

I don’t know how it could be, unless there’s a special mechanism to keep it so, but afraid I’d tip over and fall in, I didn’t dip my toe in to verify.

Clean Freak

Yesterday was cra cra.

After that morning’s workout, I returned to the unit with plans to do a final sweep of the somewhat improved kitchen tile with the steamer but then, before I did, decided I had energy enough, the weather was warm enough and it would behoove me to first clean the carpets.

After the first pass with the carpet cleaner, I went to dispose of dirty water in the sink. Lo and Behold, there wasn’t any. The dirty water tank was dry.

So, where did the water go you ask.

Soaked into the carpet it was. The cleaner was just dumping clean water into the carpet as I went along.

Now left with a carpet full of water, not wanting it to turn into mildew, not being able to figure out what the problem with the cleaner was, and needing it fixed ASAP, instead of heading to the repair shop, I headed to a big box store, purchased a new cleaner.

Crisis averted as the new Bissell Turboclean is lighter than the Hoover Power Scrub, after-care cleaning is easier and it not only did a fine job of cleaning, but also sucked up the excess water.

Bone weary and totally exhausted by the end of it all, with a step count of 6,947 — close to 3.50 miles, it was a nice Epsom salt soak in the tub last night.

I admit to being somewhat of a clean freak.

After I had to move out of the senior unit I'd previously lived in (moved out and relocated to keep a relative from ending up homeless) management, while doing a walkthrough of the unit asked, "How long have you lived here?"

"Seven years" was my reply.

To which management said it was hard to believe, inasmuch as the unit was so well-maintained.

I've run into people with the attitude of not maintaining their living space because, "It's not mine, it's the landlord's problem" or, like my original next door neighbor, Debbie — perfectly nice woman, perfectly sane, they just don't care about living in filth.

The walls of Debbie's unit were black from her smoking, the carpets so filled with dirt and dog mess that you couldn't even tell what color it originally was and, when she opened her door, an odor would waft out that I could smell when my door was closed.

Debbie would actually entertain with her unit in that condition. She had a boyfriend who'd regularly visit and a prayer group.

When she suddenly passed away, management had to gut the entire unit. Not only rip out the carpet, but replace counter tops and cabinetry, much like they probably had to do with Bird Man's unit.

In my thinking, a well-maintained living space is good chi, keeps the flow of positive energy flowing but, what with all the recurring effort I have to put in to keep the chi flowing in my little unit, I don’t know how you people in houses manage. Plus, you have yards to maintain.

Waking up this morning ready to seize the day, it was another Epsom soak, followed by that last steamer pass — and not a minute too soon, as the scrubber nozzle on the Wagner Power Steamer conked out.

I’ll try getting a replacement before considering a new steamer, but it may be a clean sweep (see what I did there) insofar as cleaning equipment. In addition to the new carpet cleaner, a new vacuum and steamer may be in my future.

Thinking back on that bug dream, interpreted to mean "Unpleasant conditions will arise in your daily life", I wonder if this is it …. aggravations caused by cleaning equipment conking out. If so, out of all the things it could have been, I’m okay with these little bugs.

So, anyway, everything done for the time being, equipment put away, I am free to focus on this afternoon’s Bingo game.

Before I sign off for the day, if you’re wondering about the pineapple upside down cake — brown rice flour absolutely did work as the base for the cake. What didn’t work out with the amount of sugar involved. I’ve been off sugar for years and years and years, so the brown sugar topping and cane sugar in the batter made the cake cloyingly sweet. Sugar absolutely killed the pineapple flavor.

Now that I know my gut will accept brown rice flour, next time I have a craving, I’ll try the recipe again, but cut down on the sugar. Maybe even substitute stevia for cane in the batter.

And yes, I did check doneness by listening for a sizzle.

Dreams and Nightmares

For a while there, I was thinking the blog was going to end up a quasi-book about dreams and nightmares, because I was experiencing a succession.

One was about checking into the hotel where next month’s Meditation Retreat is being held, finding bed bugs, opting to sleep on a leather sofa rather than relocate to a hotel away from the site.

Bed bugs not likely to happen, inasmuch as it’s a 5-Star Hotel, but I’ll be checking the mattress nevertheless.

Then, night before last, the dream was about being gifted with a puppy and asking the gift giver "What do puppies eat".

The response was "kibbles" after which I asked, "Is that all?" and the dream ended.

I know from prior experience that "bug" dreams indicate minor irritations. That new dream manual interprets it as "Unpleasant conditions will arise in your daily life".

Looks somewhat same same interpretations to me but, either way, I've been forewarned.

The 12,000 Dreams Interpretation manual is not the best. So, I’ll have to wait until end of year, when I can dig out my old manuals to interpret the puppy one. However, from my reluctance in the dream to accept the gift — having to care for a puppy, my gut is telling me it means responsibility for something or someone is going to be dumped on me.

Fortunately, my subconscious took a break last night. I had a good night’s sleep — no dreams, no nightmares, no waking up way too early this morning.

There’s also been no sign of our Karen character — not since she saw me see her.

Realizing she was being observed, while scrounging around for tree droppings, really must have waived her off.

She should thank me because what she was doing — feeding her cat and possibly herself with olives fallen off the tree, became more disgusting than I’d originally thought when I observed a resident’s dog dragging it’s butt through Karen’s gleaning area. To clean itself I imagine. Using the area as toilet paper.

Seeing that reminded me of when, back in 2014 — in an effort to play nice, Nurse Ratched (the Community Manager who didn't like old people, treated us residents poorly) organized some kind of nighttime activity on the grassy knoll.

Of course, it was poorly attended (maybe three/four people mulling about), because not attending was our way of retaliating against her maltreatment of us.

I'd blogged about it at the time, referring to her arranging the event to take place in a "toilet", because the area was where dogs do their business.

Even though most of our residents are responsible pet owners — they scoop the No. 2 poop, the grass is watered with dogs going No. 1. So, it can’t possibly be healthy to eat droppings from the tree that marinate on that grass.

So anyway, now that I’ve nauseated you, made you lose your breakfast, I’m off today to run errands out of the area. Possibly stop into the Farmer’s Market, listen to music, bask in the sun.

BTW: A 10-Year Ban from the Oscars is a woop-de-doo. It should have been a Lifetime Ban and the trophy taken away.

A Hard Pass

Trainer was making good natured fun of me yesterday. Calling me a human pincushion for having taken the Covid vaccinations and continuing to go masked in the studio. This is something he often does because he’s an anti-masker/anti-vaxxer.

When I said I had an appointment for the 2nd Booster this Saturday, he rolled his eyes, called me an addict and told me the story of how the grandmother of one of his clients is now experiencing ailments she never had before being vaxxed.

Trainer’s taunts and anti-point of view doesn’t bother or worry me. It takes all kinds to make a universe so, just like I tolerate my buddy Apache’s support of No. 45 — because I enjoy Apache as a person, I tolerate Trainer’s views because I like him, and his training is worth the risk of being in his non-vaxxed non-masked presence.

I humor him, continue to wear a mask, wipe down with disinfectant wipes at the end of the sessions and, yesterday, I poo pooed that grandmother story.

THEN, catching up on blogs last night I saw where Catalyst, over at Oddball Observations, experienced neuropathy after his 2nd Booster — which he described as “Severe nerve pain, coming/going in his feet leading to prolonged moaning and occasional screaming and cursing”.

That’s twice in one day. First the grandmother story and then Catalyst’s story.

Taking them as signs, I cancelled Saturday’s appointment.

I’m taking a hard pass on this 2nd Booster and any future vaccine shots. I'll take my chances on coming down with one of the variants, which doesn't appear to be as severe as Covid or vaccine side effects.

Speaking of cosmic signs, I’ve been dreaming quite a lot lately. My subconscious is working overtime.

I think I know what the dreams are alluding to, how they relate to what I’m experiencing in daily and family life — like that dream/nightmare I had a week or so ago about the dentist.

I’d surmised it was the result of being traumatized by that lying dentist, fearful now of future dental visits.

Wanting to verify I’d interpreted it correctly, I attempted to dig my dream manuals out of patio storage but, seeing that particular container of books is buried deep behind Christmas decorations and other heavy containers, I decided it wasn’t feasible until December — when Christmas decorations are moved out of the way for display.

When out of the area on Tuesday, passing a Barnes and Noble, I popped in, purchased 12,000 Dreams Interpreted. The book interprets it thusly: "To dream of a dentist working on your teeth suggests that you will doubt the sincerity and honor of someone you have dealings with".

BAM!

Pretty much what I thought that, because of Dr. C, I now have trust issues with dentists.

Last night’s dream/nightmare was a doozie.

It involved waking up to find that lamp, mentioned in the last post, had been moved from the window to right next to my bed so that, when I awoke, I bumped it, and it fell across me. No harm to me, but placed as it was to let me know someone had been there during the night.

My queen bed in real life was twin beds in the dream, with the lamp placed nearest to the bed I was sleeping in.

The dream continued with my grabbing a weapon, in case the intruder was still in the unit as I cautiously made my way to the front door and outside. Banging on Next Door Neighbor’s door, I had her call the police. They searched the unit, the closet, found no intruder but did see the patio door had been breached and shoe prints indicating someone had exited the unit through that area.

Would you believe that out of 12,000 Dreams Interpreted not one covers the topic of "intruder".

Seems I’ll have to wait until December, dig out my other manuals to figure that one out.

I’m also still waiting to see if those lottery tickets I purchased on double egg yolk day will pay off.

I had a Power, Mega, Super Lotto, paid $5.00 and won a whopping $5.00 back on two of the three.

Breaking even, I rolled the $5 into a scratch ticket which yielded nothing, but has been entered into the Second Chance Draw. So, there's still a slim chance the double yolks may yet pay off.

No sign of that Karen character since the day she saw me see her. Don't know if this is because I've not been fortunate enough to catch her when she's out, or whether she's not been out.

Maybe she's embarrassed at being seen scrounging for tree droppings.

Double Yolk Day

Seeing double egg yolks hit the pan this morning made me feel a lot better about today’s dental procedure because of a dream I’d had two nights ago. Actually, a nightmare.

In the dream, I was in the dentist’s chair. He turned on the drill, made a movement towards my mouth to remove the broken cap BUT he’d not numbed the area.

I said "Stop! You’re not going to numb me?" Whereupon the dentist said, "If you want. Sure, we can do that".

I said, "I’m not doing this", got out of the chair and began to walk out.

No way, after that misstep, was he going to work on me.

As I was exiting, the receptionist called out that I’d still have to pay for the time I’d taken up that day.

I refused and called the cops — because I wanted a record of the call to protect myself from their calling the cops after I’d left to say I’d done so without paying.

Then as I was leaving, I told the receptionist I’d see them in court if they later tried to bill me, and that I was going to put them on Yelp blast for what the dentist had tried to do.

My Dream Interpretation book is in storage, so I can’t easily research what that dream really means. It may just be that, after how that last dentist played me — and the area he worked on still feeling like he went too far into the tooth, I’m a bit traumatized, fearful even of future dental visits.

At any rate, the double egg yolks are comforting, a sign this is going to be a good day, a lucky day.

I’ll be sure to play the lottery before the day ends.

In other news, my friend Q got his 4th Pfizer already.

Q is only in his early 50’s and I didn’t even know a second booster has been approved. Last I’d heard, a 4th shot was being discussed as a possibility.

Oh well, I guess this is my life now — dental visits and covid vaccinations.

Gloomy Days and Mondays

Woke up in a blue funk this morning ─ tired and in no way ready to seize the day.

Not sure exactly why ... except maybe too much of the Law and Order Binge-A-Thon (all 20 seasons of the original), which has been causing way too many dreams since I got into the binge-a-thon days ago, including last night when the dream was like a film vignette ─ different people, in different situations ─ people I did not know, situations I now can’t recall but which left me waking up feeling exhausted, rather than rested.

So, instead of the Oscars last night, I was into the Goren years of Law and Order, because I can’t handle all those Oscar speeches, nor am I interested in who wins what. I do enjoy the fashion, but I can always catch that online ─ without the aggravation of speeches, pomp and ceremony.

So waking up tired and not ready for another day of life this cold dreary Monday morning, I made coffee and logged on to see what Billy Porter had worn to the Oscars ... only he wasn’t in attendance.

There was much ado about Laura Derns Oscar de la Renta dress being a total miss, but I loved it, thought it clean, elegant.

The dress is being unfairly compared to the disastrous looking swan dress worn by Björk back in 2001.

Unfairly because ... well look ...

One is a costume, the other is art.

At any rate, I think Laura and De La Renta are getting a bad rap.

After logging off the puter, performing the usual morning rituals, I dragged my tired self to the Pain Cave, thinking the workout would lift me ─ produce much needed endorphins.

I open the door and ..... BAM! ... straight ahead, just as I entered the door.

Do you see it?

Here's a closer look.

It’s the treadmill.

Formerly perfectly placed in the room facing the picture window, it is now located in the front room, smack dab across from the studio’s entrance.

My view now is the boxing ring and the room where the treadmill had been located ─ which is now were the boxing bags have been strung up.

My back is to a wall, my side is to a wall ─ amazingly, the feng shui of it hits the corner (relationship) and wall (family) of this room, same as when located in the other room.

My side view is the front door.

Too tired to care, I asked how the wife felt about this change. Trainer said she just shook her head and said “Whatever”.

I liked the other room, other position better but, inasmuch as I'm not facing a wall, I can live with it. Besides, it's not like I have a choice.

So whatever.

As for those much needed endorphins ... I survived this morning’s workout, but came away feeling no more energetic than when I awoke.

Vivid Dreams

That last post, about waking up to a bed looking like I’d been in a fight during the night, ended up opening up a floodgate of memories, initiated by Jan F commenting “That was some wild night! Do you remember vivid dreams?”.

I don’t recall dreaming much in my younger years except, in my early teens, being plagued nightly by a recurring dream of a giant domino falling on my chest, crushing the breath of life out of me.

It wasn’t until I was an adult, looking back, that I realized that was indicative of my mom, controlling every aspect of my beingness, stifling my ability to breath.

Once out on my own, I never had that dream again.

Married to the twins’ father, there was the recurring dream of a tiger. The tiger was in a cage, pacing back/forth from one end of the cage to the other.

I realized the cage was marriage and the lion was I, feeling trapped, wanting out.

Once I escaped the twins’ dad, I never had that dream again and knew my path was to stay single, stay free.

I don’t recall much about dreaming after that, though I’m sure I did, until in the mid-60’s, in a job I liked (business office of a medical facility), where I was liked by coworkers and my boss, thought I was treated okay as a Black employee …. until a new office manager and a second boss came on the scene.

That second boss treated me like a slave, had me doing not only my secretarial work, but her job as well when assigned tasks her lazy arse didn’t want to do or, maybe, was not capable of performing.

I don’t recall the new office manager doing anything specific to make my life difficult, other than backing my second boss, overworking me by assigning additional duties, additional people to help —  because I had the skill and her having an attitude of superiority. An attitude of superiority office manager acquired because she was sleeping with the Medical Director who’d brought her in.

At any rate, between the two of them (the office manager and second boss) I began to feel very Black, unhappy but, with children to raise, felt I had no choice but to keep my head down and deal with whatever they threw my way.

Then, one night I saw a pretty little blonde girl in my dream.

Clear as day, I saw her face.

Would have recognized her anywhere.

I kid you not — she came on the scene the very next day, as a temporary worker, took a shine to me and one day said, “You’re really good at what you do, and they treat you like shit. Do you mind if I give your name to my agency?”

I agreed, and was contacted by her agency.

It was right after the Watts Riot and, as I later learned, affirmative action in the workplace was huge. Companies were scrambling to comply with government regulations.

Through the agency that provided us that temp, I learned I was a valuable commodity, in high demand. Did not have to take crap, because I was considered what they called back then a three-fer — I was not only Black, but skilled and nice looking. So, in short order, I shocked the crap out of office manager and second boss, when I was hired by a law firm and on to the next leg of my journey through life.

I never saw the blonde girl again after I left that job, but her agency said they were paid “a lot of money” by the law firm for bringing me to them.

Thinking back on it now, I was bought. Reminisce of the old plantation days, when slaves were staged on a platform bought/sold depending on what they had to bring to their new master.

That agency never told me how much I was bought for, just that "It was a lot of money". All based on my skin color, skills and professional appearance.

Being bought was fine by me, especially since, to this day, I can still see office manager's face when she asked me, "How did this happen?" and I said the temp offered me to her agency because she said I was good at what I did and you guys treated me like shit. Whereupon, office manager's eyes fell to the floor.

I'd shamed her. Outwitted her. She thought I'd be their slave forever and now she was being laughed at by office staff, which office staff, including some of the bigwigs, gave me a huge going-away party, which office manager and the second boss were not invited and did not attend.

I’m assuming the little blonde girl received a kick back from her agency for submitting my name, but it was all good.

I don’t know what happened to that second boss, but office manager came to a bad end shortly after I left.

Her arrogance at sleeping with the Medical Director was such that she thought she’d made it in life and was on to bigger things.

She began divorce proceedings (expecting to marry or be taken care of as mistress to the Medical Director), whereupon her husband went to her mom’s house, asked where she was, which turned out to be Denny’s Restaurant.

Husband killed office manager’s mom, drove to Denny’s and killed office manager right there, inside Denny’s.

To best of my recollection, he shot the mom, his wife (office manager), then killed himself, leaving behind a teenage daughter.

The co-workers that called me at my new place of employment, to apprise me of the happening, showed no mercy. Said they were happy to be rid of her.

The Medical Director, caught in a scandal, was forced to leave his position.

Since then, I recall many many what I call “telling” dreams. Dreams that tell me what’s going to happen before it happens, which has been beneficial to me in that, having this advanced information has allowed me to prepare — keep calm, non-reactive, not be hurt when it’s something I’ve been shown I have to lose or go through, as I've been made to understand it's part of the plan for my life here.

Twice, the telling dream was about someone else.

Like the time I saw a coworker standing over her husband. He was sitting in a big brown leather chair, remaining calm, trying to read, as she stood over, leaning in, haranguing him.

I never met her husband, never knew anything about him and she’d never spoken to me about him before but, from what I knew of her, it wasn’t difficult in the dream to understand the haranguing had something to do with religion — his not listening, not thinking/believing as she wanted him to.

The very next day, she walked over to my desk and began complaining about her husband.

I told her, “I saw you and your husband in a dream. Your husband is ahead of you spiritually speaking. Leave him alone”.

Her face looked like she’d been struck by lightning, so I guess she got the message.

The last significant telling dream I recall, that concerned someone else, was about one of the bosses.

My lawyer got a promotion in the firm and took me with him, where I met a woman I did not work for, but who took a liking to me and told me about her life — let’s call her Elizabeth, because that’s her name and it was years ago.

Elizabeth had been married to a rich man, who’d left her and their children, for a co-worker friend of hers.

At one time, Elizabeth and this woman, who’d stolen her husband, worked in the same office — desks just feet apart.

I had so much respect for Elizabeth’s having maintained her spiritual integrity as she went through that difficult situation, which ended with the ex-husband passing away, the co-worker inheriting his wealth and, with no further need to work, retiring, leaving Elizabeth not having to see the woman every day.

At any rate, one night I had a dream about Elizabeth. Did not see her doing anything, just saw her and a voice in the dream said, “Tell her it was her choice”.

By then, I was in a different department than Elizabeth, didn’t see her much and didn’t think anything more about the dream until, a day or so later, Elizabeth and I happened to be riding in the same elevator.

Elizabeth was highly agitated, saying something about her sister having moved in with her, and it not going well.

I didn’t know anything about the sister, about the situation, whether Elizabeth should have known better, whether the universe had told Elizabeth to not go down that route and she didn’t listen, but I said to Elizabeth, “I don’t know if this means anything, but I was told in a dream to tell you it was your choice”.

Elizabeth calmed down, took it in for a second, then said she understood and that was that.

Those were the specific instances that came to the surface today as a result of JanF’s comment.

On another note, as I was typing this, out of the corner of my eye I saw movement on the quad.

Thinking the figure looked like Head Maintenance Guy, I grabbed my phone, walked into the other room for a better view, lifted the blinds and waited for the figure to reappear.

Whatdoyaknow, it’s him ... back ... out of quarantine AND, at long last, wearing a mask.

That was quick.

I’ll be keeping an eye on him and, if I see him in the quad mask less ever again, I’ll take a photo and alert not just management, but Corporate.

On yet another note, No. 45 had a very bad, terrible, sad day.

First, the Supreme Court turned down his Texas lawsuit, then there was this ...

Remembering how badly 45 wanted this honor, how hard he tried to get himself named Time person of the year, I'm pretty sure he is PISSED! about this.

The closest he ever came was this fake cover someone created.