So, after a long day ending about 9pm, I came home last night and saw my millions of boxes sitting there…
To explain: (bear with me)
I’m nearly done packing the books, but had to pick up more liquor boxes on Monday night on my way to rehearsal, which meant these boxes didn’t get home until late Monday, and so of course they are sitting in the living room, empty. Also, the universe is clearly a fan of my idea to move because yesterday we received an unexpected delivery at work. Not unexpected as in un-ordered, but unexpected as in, we ordered 24 not exactly huge items, but they packed each item in its own, huge, box. In the end I only took 11 of these boxes, but they are also in the living room.
…So I saw my umpteen-gazillion empty boxes in the living room when I got home last night, felt annoyed at not having packed anything that day – how could I? I was at work! – and suddenly wished I could just pack one suitcase – maybe even a big one – and then set fire to the house. Wouldn’t that be great? Fresh start, for real! (I would never do that because I’m not a criminal, but the idea is TANTALIZING!)
Preamble over, let me tell you about my night!
The dreams, the dreams. Sometimes I wonder about my brain - the stuff it comes up with when it’s left to wander unchaperoned through the REM. Not last night. I know where those dreams came from. Again, two dreams that I remember.
First, here’s something for all of you followers of the “Red and the Transformed Non-Conformist” serial. Last night, Brett (the Non-Conformist, if you're new) was directing a play in my head. Well, casting it actually.
I know exactly why my brain made this connection. Although we are not very visible together these days in the blogosphere, we are in contact (does that warm your heart, Bozo?) and I had mentioned to him that I’m Assistant Directing a current show, and he had asked a follow-up question which I answered very briefly because I was answering from my phone and it’s a pain to type on that tiny keyboard. ...So my brain associated Brett with the theatre (and probably also with my need to properly address his question) and came up with "auditions".
In the dream, I was late to the auditions he was holding.(that is not like me at all.) I don’t know if Brett was ignoring me, or if I was kind of hiding out in the back of the room chatting with other auditioners, but he didn’t seem to know I was there. There was a second night of auditions, with all the same characters – who were probably the rest of the bloggers I follow, since I didn’t recognize any of them – and I was late again, and this time Brett was cross-casting people. You know, men in traditionally female roles and vice versa, and the wrong race in race-specific roles. Very weird.
The second dream is tied into my “burn the house down” thoughts before bed. I was throwing things out a second story window, and suddenly saw my piano standing in the middle of a stream – well, it wasn’t my piano because I don’t have a baby grand, but in the dream it was – and it wasn’t in a flood of rushing water, but more like standing on a rocky bed – sort of like where I went white-water rafting in NC, but without the white water – just with a little water trickling around the legs of the piano. And the frame of the piano was broken…probably from shoving it out a second story window!
Thanks for indulging me: I’m not usually one for spouting off about my dreams and stuff, but I thought you might enjoy these. (Anyone want to come burn my house down for me??)
In other news: “Reasons to celebrate!”
Today is the 220th birthday of Sir John Herschel, the astronomer who discovered more than 1,000 deep sky objects. (among many other scientific things that he did.)
Also, locally, this is the 50th anniversary of the 1962 storm, which changed the landscape and building codes for much of Delaware. Seriously, a big storm. Everyone should celebrate by drinking a hurricane! (unless there’s a drink called The Nor’easter)