More strange dreams. Ron wasn’t in this one. I was travelling with a group and for some reason, had three room keys, one of which was very rusted. I didn’t know which room was mine. I was young, college age, and sharing a room with two other girls.
When I caught up with the group, they said they lost track of me so they’d given my room to someone else “more worthy”. If I were going to stay, I’d have to share a room with a man I didn’t know.
That infuriated me. I beat the shit out of the group leader, kept slapping her as hard as I could over and over, but no one seemed to mind and she hardly even reacted.
Just before I woke up, I was frantically running around trying to find my things and checking flight schedules so that I could pack and catch a plane back home. I had another, less violent, dream after that.
A slapping dream means either a surprise is going to happen soon or the dreamer is repressing anger and hostility.
Had to restart the furnace, but it’s been cranking away, knock wood.
I’ve been getting my energy back after Berkeley and then Emme’s birthday trip to Nantucket. Figuring out logistics wore me out. It was the perfect day for the trip and we enjoyed it, so well worth the effort and I’m so glad we did it.
I made The Cake for her yesterday and did the transfer station run with Peter, which makes today seem like a holiday rather than Sunday. He’s going to SF for GDC today.
Yesterday was the annual 20% off at Ace, and I got some really neat stuff, including another hanger for yard tools, some gutter screens, a candy thermometer and a hummingbird feeder.