This week I've been fighting a harsh summer cold. I caught the common cold. I flew back into Chicago from Minnesota after a trip to visit family, and I suspect the combination of recycled air on the flight with the delayed flight, putting me back in town very late and little sleep before the next prior workday, is what did me in. It got progressively worse throughout the week with long work days and several live Wood Sugars shows late into the night. It crescendo-ed Friday morning when I lost my voice completely. I took a sick day for the first time in a long, long time. Last night I took some NyQuil for a deep sleep. At one point I awoke to use the bathroom and could barely muster the coordination to get out of bed. It was as though the sleep paralysis feature of REM sleep hadn't worn off yet. Discombobulated I stepped out of bed and walked with jarred steps like a seizure gripped me. I reached for my water glass on my bed stand and pulled it to my lips. I didn't time it right. I turned it down much before my lips hit and rushed water down my chest and legs and on the floor and my feet slipped a little bit walking over the spill. I continued to walk like a cripple to the bathroom and peed sitting down to minimize more messes in this state.
I had a vivid dream in which I was training for an ice skating competition but was practicing upon the wood tiles of a basketball court. And I skated boarded home in a dream but in a similar discombobulated, nonfunctional, spasmodic, non-coordinated struggle as my journey to the bathroom.
scribblings, jottings, scenes & stories of Jeff Phillips, writer/performer/producer.
2 comments:
Sounds like you're still working hard at the job and on the show business. I was thinking about the old days today, actually. We had some good times with that play, dude.
As for that dream, I'm not sure what to make of it, but usually you have to look to the feeling to assess a dream, like it was probably a feeling of frustration at not being able to operate that skateboard. Frustration and inadequacy are big themes of my piss-poor dreams. I'm always fucking naked and mad at myself. Damn it! Naked again. Forgot the darned clothes!
We did have some good times indeed. Remember when I inadvertently ate McDonalds 3x in a day? Such a Connor thing to do.
I'm in the middle of moving to a new apartment onto working and show biz stuff, so I think that dream is a signal that I need to go camping in the woods for a good chunk of time to recharge these batteries!
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