Scarlett’s Letter June 14, 2013

Life is but a dream.

I don’t know if it was from all the inverted poses in yoga last night, or perhaps the earth has been thrown slightly off it’s axis because I drank wine with pizza instead of beer, but I had the craziest, craziest dreams last night.

One dream I remember bits of, I was auditing a bicycle shop (I used to be an auditor, my dad used to own a bicycle shop, but it wasn’t his shop). The shop was in a small town, probably old time Napa, and I was the auditor in charge of the engagement. One of my staff called and just couldn’t understand anything that was going on with the entries and the computer system and asked me to come out to the bike shop to see if I could help figure out what was going on. I needed to rent a car to get to the bike shop, but the only car rental place in town had these quirky, old antique cars that they wouldn’t actually let you drive. I had to wait for this smoky, clattery old truck to rattle to a start, then I had to sit, with other passengers, on padded benches in the bed as we rolled through town. I finally made it to the bike shop and found that my staff person’s confusion was because the computer system utilized the old “punch cards” from, like, the seventies. That’s all I remember of THAT dream. Oh, but, wait, I had another one.

In the other dream, my kids were still small, like preschool age. We were at a hotel or something and it was time to leave. I couldn’t find my son anywhere, but we left anyway (???). I posted on Facebook (in my dream) that he was missing and a friend posted a link to a video in response. In the linked video a woman was standing at a podium, all press conference style, talking about how “they” were abducting very young boys and turning them into trannies, as in, transvestites. Behind the woman in the video was a poster, the poster child for young boys who’d been abducted and were going to be turned in to transvestites and it looked just like my son. But, in my dream I just blew it all off and thought it was so typical of this Facebook friend to respond in this “over the top”, paranoid, fashion. I returned to the hotel in search of my son and he jumped out of a cupboard behind the front desk. He’d been playing hide and go seek with his little sister, and was still hiding.

Hello? Can you explain to me why I’d have two completely kooky dreams like that in one night? Me either. Thankfully, for all the bizarreness of the night, my day was actually quite normal. Just work, with a client, this morning. I finished up all those loose ends I was trying to wrangle into submission yesterday and finished off the afternoon packing for my trip. My son was here, and no, he wasn’t dressed like a tranny. He did some work on the deck and the fence for Mom and washed our cars. It was support your local starving college kid day, so he was fed three times, and paid, and his gas tank topped off. I also gave him all the perishables in my fridge to use up, since I leave tomorrow. I saved one egg and one apple. And the organic mayonnaise. And the Sriracha.  He and I capped off the evening with a fine Mexican meal at Taqueria Maria in Napa. A couple of Bohemia cervezas (because they were out of Negro Modelo) and a couple of carnitas tacos. Muy bueno.

The final chore of the night was to CRAM the birthday gift into the trunk of my son’s car. He is going to, hopefully, if all goes according to plan, deliver it to the airport during the few hours between my arrival from New Jersey and my departure to Alaska. I hope the airline gods are working with me that day! With the third of three flights for tomorrow upgraded to first class, I can’t help but be a wee bit nervous about flights the rest of the trip. But, I must be positive about these things, positive energy, positive thought attracts like energy. Hopefully that works with the airplane gods, too, and it should, because really, life is but a dream. May yours not be too kooky!

Cerveza!
Cerveza!
Tacos at Taqueria Maria in Napa
Tacos at Taqueria Maria in Napa

Comments are closed.