strange, strange, strange
I was up around 3:30 this morning, probably by habit, and decided to hang out on the couch. Lilah came out I made small talk with her. Followed by an urge to poop. I grabbed my phone, being a good citizen, and perched on the toilet. After a few minutes I realized this was going to be a long time coming because for some reason I was constipated. So I did my mandatory Duolingo lesson to maintain my 45 day streak 'til everything came out and I went back to the couch so as not to awaken my wife.by accident.
While waiting for sleep, I tweeted like President in Esperanto, snuggled Lilah as she feigned protests, and I realized my head wasn't hurting as much and Friday would be a Good Day (tm).
When sleep came up and grabbed me, I was in a split level home and I had esperantists coming to stay. Either there was a Congress or I had signed up for Pasaport Servo. Couchsurfing for Esperanto speakers since 1966. Two women and one guy to the best of my memory. All of a sudden I felt terribly out of my league, speaking only simple sentences and continually apologizing in English for not knowing enough to be useful. Yet every time they spoke to me, I understood their phrases. As if I was Data on Star Trek: The Next Generation pausing for effect while recalling some obscure file in his positronic brain. I had a vague feeling of my wife was annoyed but putting up with the guests. Wife points, I reckon.
The dream kinda breaks down where I'm at a strip mall in some eatery. The inside's kind of like a contemporary bank with tellers behind bulletproof glass. Like a KFC in Camden, New Jersey. Someone said it was time to go home, and I dutifully complied with the request. My guests were getting ready to leave, I found myself in an open-air garage under the house. It's like the house was on stilts but there was plenty of parking space 'neath it. I sit on a long slab of concrete as farm animals come to eagerly greet me and make my acquaintance. One of the female visitors asks me to come with her back into the house. She's some yellow labrador retriever of a blonde wearing a cowboy hat and a low-cut shirt. Apparently the guests give gifts in gratitude for the hospitality. I'm given a wide multitool, like a Wenger Giant, except it's yellow on each side rather than red. Some guy next to me is going to receive his gift which means the blonde's pushing him to lay down. I make the obvious blowjob joke which garners angry, cold stares. I turn away and put on the affect of "I'm not going to speak again." as the blonde takes out something like a fishing pole with medical instruments to perform a procedure on the guy.
About then I woke up.
While waiting for sleep, I tweeted like President in Esperanto, snuggled Lilah as she feigned protests, and I realized my head wasn't hurting as much and Friday would be a Good Day (tm).
When sleep came up and grabbed me, I was in a split level home and I had esperantists coming to stay. Either there was a Congress or I had signed up for Pasaport Servo. Couchsurfing for Esperanto speakers since 1966. Two women and one guy to the best of my memory. All of a sudden I felt terribly out of my league, speaking only simple sentences and continually apologizing in English for not knowing enough to be useful. Yet every time they spoke to me, I understood their phrases. As if I was Data on Star Trek: The Next Generation pausing for effect while recalling some obscure file in his positronic brain. I had a vague feeling of my wife was annoyed but putting up with the guests. Wife points, I reckon.
The dream kinda breaks down where I'm at a strip mall in some eatery. The inside's kind of like a contemporary bank with tellers behind bulletproof glass. Like a KFC in Camden, New Jersey. Someone said it was time to go home, and I dutifully complied with the request. My guests were getting ready to leave, I found myself in an open-air garage under the house. It's like the house was on stilts but there was plenty of parking space 'neath it. I sit on a long slab of concrete as farm animals come to eagerly greet me and make my acquaintance. One of the female visitors asks me to come with her back into the house. She's some yellow labrador retriever of a blonde wearing a cowboy hat and a low-cut shirt. Apparently the guests give gifts in gratitude for the hospitality. I'm given a wide multitool, like a Wenger Giant, except it's yellow on each side rather than red. Some guy next to me is going to receive his gift which means the blonde's pushing him to lay down. I make the obvious blowjob joke which garners angry, cold stares. I turn away and put on the affect of "I'm not going to speak again." as the blonde takes out something like a fishing pole with medical instruments to perform a procedure on the guy.
About then I woke up.