I Dream of Genie
My memory is blurred from the moment I got to work last night. It was probably around 10 or 11 pm. I know that despite having arrived from some Spanish film premiere with my boss at Lincoln Center where I was drinking wine like shots, my blackout was mostly induced by some form of exhaustion coma. I must have fallen asleep sitting on the toilet in the bathroom, which I only slightly remember doing. and then I sleep-walked my way to the banquette in the private room and crashed there, only shifting once (As evidenced by the tape of I reviewed this morning at 8am).
And my dreams were all about vulnerability. They were shooting a movie and I was trying to get out of the way, because I was also trying brush my teeth in a large mirrored room that looked like a dance studio, but my reflection could be seen by the camera so I'd had to find an invisible spot by the window. The scene was then shooting across the street on the opposing building's fire escape. They were all doing a well choreographed struggle for something. And someone fell, and someone else in my ear said "there it is," and then there was a thud. and then the voice was Lindsay, and we were on the rooftop together, and another girl across the street on a different fire escape went to take a seat where the railing was missing, plummeting toward the ground. A third person, walking ahead of us, stepped straight off the building.
So Lindsay and I started walking down the exposed staircase on the side of the building. there was a little landing where the stairs made a cut-back and an older, beautiful Spanish woman was selling flowers and smiling at us. And then Lindsay reached the landing and stepped into mid-air and plummeted emotionlessly, struck maybe by shock, out of sight. Suddenly we were very high up, and all the stairs and ledges seemed very small, and the Spanish woman was screaming and crying with me, both of us just repeating, "oh my god!" over and over until I woke up abruptly and realized I was sleeping at work and didn't know how I got there.
I felt exposed. And bare. The thought of dying from your own carelessness is overwhelming. The thought that I could sleep for ten hours, five on a toilet, without coming-to and figuring out where the hell I was is also overwhelming.
And my dreams were all about vulnerability. They were shooting a movie and I was trying to get out of the way, because I was also trying brush my teeth in a large mirrored room that looked like a dance studio, but my reflection could be seen by the camera so I'd had to find an invisible spot by the window. The scene was then shooting across the street on the opposing building's fire escape. They were all doing a well choreographed struggle for something. And someone fell, and someone else in my ear said "there it is," and then there was a thud. and then the voice was Lindsay, and we were on the rooftop together, and another girl across the street on a different fire escape went to take a seat where the railing was missing, plummeting toward the ground. A third person, walking ahead of us, stepped straight off the building.
So Lindsay and I started walking down the exposed staircase on the side of the building. there was a little landing where the stairs made a cut-back and an older, beautiful Spanish woman was selling flowers and smiling at us. And then Lindsay reached the landing and stepped into mid-air and plummeted emotionlessly, struck maybe by shock, out of sight. Suddenly we were very high up, and all the stairs and ledges seemed very small, and the Spanish woman was screaming and crying with me, both of us just repeating, "oh my god!" over and over until I woke up abruptly and realized I was sleeping at work and didn't know how I got there.
I felt exposed. And bare. The thought of dying from your own carelessness is overwhelming. The thought that I could sleep for ten hours, five on a toilet, without coming-to and figuring out where the hell I was is also overwhelming.