Often my unconscious world is an explosion of activity, and I wake exhausted.
Last night, or I should say this morning as that’s when it seemed all the action was taking place, I was back at university. I had no clothes yet a policeman borrowed one of my bras – a mint green one, (don’t ask). I cooked the biggest potato known to mankind which surprisingly fitted into one of my smallest saucepans. I cried over my mum, I chatted with my aunt and uncle, I gave a sofa to a woman having my surrogate baby – she didn’t want it but I didn’t care, the sofa that is. I valet parked at school – shouldn’t we all. I had to explain that my sister was twenty to a weird little creepy teacher who thought she was just a very mature eight year old. (She’s actually forty-eight, but I think that would have freaked him out even more). We laughed at a satellite photo of how one part of our fence hadn’t been re-stained – in a, in your face, protest of the deed restriction nazi neighbourhood people.
Yes, big brother’s been on our back recently for fence violation, and the missing teeny-weeny flower shaped knob on the post box. Man! You’d think they’d have better things to do, especially as the fence looks fine, and, you have to believe me when I tell you, the knob on the post box is about an inch round. They probably had to use their special Inspector Gadget extending eyeballs to see that one.
They probably stole it in the first place.
And so the dream went on, scene after scene, bizarreness after bizarreness. Mostly to do with school, but I believe there was a toilet drama in there somewhere. Thankfully it wasn’t as traumatic as the time I was on a train, in the countryside, in the dead of night, and Nosferatu cycled by and looked me in the eye. That was a little disturbing. Or the time I was Steven Seagal and … O.K perhaps we shouldn’t go there.
I used to have this poster on the wall when I was at art college. Perhaps it messed with my mind.
Note to self: No more creepy posters. Stick with the distorted female figures of Modigliani. They’re safer.
O.K. Perhaps this one isn’t.
She’s got angry eyes. And that double chin isn’t doing much for her either.
So, this is how my mornings usually begin. It’s like I’ve lived the whole day before it’s started. I actually feel worn out and ready for bed now.
New stuff going on in the jewelry department.
Will I be able to cope with this much excitement, I wonder loudly to myself.
I think very possibly I will.