Date Dream?
I seem to be experimenting with different combinations past social lives. Yesterday seemed all about college and Mommyland; this morning I went on a date with an Orthodox Jewish man from my job. In real life he is married with a young pre-schooler; we're friendly, but, I wouldn't say that I've had a crush on him or anything like that (with one or two exceptions, the pickings are slim where I work) and maybe that's the message of the dream: lower my sights?
Anyway, we retraced a dream venue that is very familiar to me; it purports to be a series of coffee shop/Seinfeld-style greasy spoons that were located in the Murray Hill section of Manhattan in the 80s. I have built up this dreamscape totally from my own imagination. Try as I may, I cannot connect them to actual places in real life. And yet, I seem to return there several times a year in my sleep.
I am often accompanied by my friend Dave and a handful of stand-ins for people I actually knew at the time: a Hispanic guy, and Italian-American, all young, gay, footloose -- and in search of cheap, starchy, after-hours food.
This morning, the fellow from work acompanied me as we went to a specific hotel, passed by the lobby attendants and descended a flight of stairs hich seemed to deposit us at the mouth a series of underground coffee houses that served food. I kept trying to remember the name of the place, but coldn't.
These dreams often involve meeting old friends and then losing them. And, that's what happened in this one. At some point in our travels (which involved squeezing through tight, quasi-forbidden, cracks between ceilings) I lost track of my friend from work. And, that was the end of the dream.
Anyway, we retraced a dream venue that is very familiar to me; it purports to be a series of coffee shop/Seinfeld-style greasy spoons that were located in the Murray Hill section of Manhattan in the 80s. I have built up this dreamscape totally from my own imagination. Try as I may, I cannot connect them to actual places in real life. And yet, I seem to return there several times a year in my sleep.
I am often accompanied by my friend Dave and a handful of stand-ins for people I actually knew at the time: a Hispanic guy, and Italian-American, all young, gay, footloose -- and in search of cheap, starchy, after-hours food.
This morning, the fellow from work acompanied me as we went to a specific hotel, passed by the lobby attendants and descended a flight of stairs hich seemed to deposit us at the mouth a series of underground coffee houses that served food. I kept trying to remember the name of the place, but coldn't.
These dreams often involve meeting old friends and then losing them. And, that's what happened in this one. At some point in our travels (which involved squeezing through tight, quasi-forbidden, cracks between ceilings) I lost track of my friend from work. And, that was the end of the dream.