I’m slipping… woke up late again, and it looks like I’ll work a half day at best. The boy wants to hang out tonight… I should want to see him, I barely saw him last week and I’ll see not that much of him this weekend (although the week after we’re supposed to take off together). and I should want him. The way I used to want him.
They say it’s normal for relationships to fade, but I don’t think that’s it. I think that I was expecting something that I’m not getting, henceforth (yay) he is then not getting what he was expecting. I don’t know if I have the causality correct here, but it doesn’t matter.
Causality is not correlation.Basically the only thing that I remember from statistics class. Pretty much the only thing that I need to remember.
My boss was so disappointed… I asked for explanation of sin waves, and he showed me, as if it would be simple if only I see it, and I felt so dumb because the picture he drew didn’t make any more sense to me than all the words that he said.
I have to remember that this job, more than anything else, is a learning opportunity.
Last night I dreamed about work, and I realize that I haven’t recounted my dreams in quite a while
I had gone to the casino1, probably for a date but I don’t remember the man.
It was night, and for some reason (I know the reason, it has to be done), I was up and making my LinkedIn profile on my laptop, the screen glowing in the dark room. I remember hitting save early, and terrified scrolling as I feared it was published too early and I looked like a fool.
I took that as a sign to go to sleep (who sleeps in dreams?), but when I awoke there was an old man sleeping in a chair at the foot of my bed. I screamed, and he woke up, confused, but tried to grab my purse (the one I actually carry now, which is weird. Can I at least dream of a less beat up wallet) and ran toward the door2.
I remember my hesitation at chasing him, I’m so lazy. But I also realized that I was carrying a lot of money. So I had to. Did I attack him? Did I pull at the purse, with it’s flimsy straps? I can imagine that somehow I was more worried about breaking the purse than losing my money.
The old man was suddenly young when he turned back to me. He was slim yet muscular, a Hispanic (is there a word for these people that doesn’t carry the colonialist tag of the nation that tortured them) with thick black hair. Maybe it was Antonio Banderas, who is actually Spanish.
He lunged at me and was on top of me, and kissed me passionately. He said things to me (can I quote within a quote, like inception)
“I miss you, and I miss how wild you were. You used to fuck with such fire. We would fight, and I remember you fucked my boss on the hood of my car to get back at me. Where is that fire now? I want that again.”
I kissed him back, but I was unable to muster any intensity. I flipped him over as if to get on top, and he complied, though it was a lot less violent than he had been with me, and than I would have liked.
I don’t think we fucked, I think I just took back my purse.
In the other room, morning had begun3. People were coming in and I barely knew them, though they seemed like either a crowd of college friends, or work friends (and I realize how similar the vibe is), and they were setting up for breakfast. Some of them had kids apparently. I hadn’t bought any food, but one cluster of people, looked like 2 college roommates who had ordered pizzas, from the night before and from the morning) offered to share. I went to get a pizza but I think I got the wrong one. It was rubbery. I told them about Frank Pepe’s downstairs4, they didn’t know.
The people with kids set up an impossibly impressive raw bar with a huge roll of sushi being tossed for some reason on a rack. They did not offer to share.1. This particular casino, a dream version of one that I used to go to often, was set on a steep cliff in the mountains and looked kind of like the disney castle. The one I actually go to is not that nice, but the carpet is the same. Casino carpets are iconic. I can tell in everyone’s pictures which hotel they are at based on the carpet, AI can probably tell the room number based on the angle of the carpet cut. Who has the fucking time to load those algorithms with the carpet patterns of every hotel chain. I can barely send emails. 2. The rooms that I stay in are quite large, the suites. Perhaps larger than my apartment? They do have more bathrooms than my current apartment… 3. Another tradition of my casino lifestyle. We all get different rooms, yet convene in the suite. 4. There is a Frank Pepe’s in a casino, however not the one that I think this dream represents.
It’s so hilarious that this song is so long, the perfect fucking length.
My coffee’s done.
But I think it’s important to note that I dreamed of my purse being stolen again.