When a dream about someone isn't a dream about someone
I've been sick the last couple of days, and last night I had what felt like a significant dream. The sensation was powerful.
I dreamed that I was at a restaurant on a date with someone who I really liked. He wasn't a dream date in the visual sense, but he was funny and smart and I liked him. (Actually he was kind of short and chubby and balding with glasses and more lines on his face than I would have expected for someone my age.) We were chatting away amiably when someone came and tapped me on the shoulder. It was someone I knew though I can't say whom exactly. They asked me to come over to their table in the restaurant. I didn't want to go, but they said it was urgent.
I excused myself and went to their table, which was filled with publishing types. I remember that literary agent and editor Shawna McCarthy was there. It was a business lunch. Literary agent Don Maass sat down at the table as someone else at the table received a phone call. They handed it to me and explained that it was author Joe Haldeman on the line. He'd received a call from jaylake, years after Jay's death, and he wanted to talk to me about it. Why did he want to talk to me? Because, I was told, you know things. And because someone had listened to my voicemail for me and said that I had a message from Jay as well.
So I took the phone, and Joe started to tell this long, complicated story about his time in Vietnam, complete with 1960s soundtrack. His voice kept fading in and out and the restaurant got noisier. My date kept watching me. I moved to a table where I thought it would be quieter so that I could hear what Joe was saying. As it turned out, oldmangrumpus was in the restaurant too. He saw me and came over to introduce me to the person he was having lunch with. I waved him off. I kept trying to listen to the call, but somehow, the line was just silent.
If this isn't a metaphor for getting distracted from attending to the things I want, I can't think of a better one. I think it's interesting that it was so focused on publishing. I need to think about this one more. I need to think.
I dreamed that I was at a restaurant on a date with someone who I really liked. He wasn't a dream date in the visual sense, but he was funny and smart and I liked him. (Actually he was kind of short and chubby and balding with glasses and more lines on his face than I would have expected for someone my age.) We were chatting away amiably when someone came and tapped me on the shoulder. It was someone I knew though I can't say whom exactly. They asked me to come over to their table in the restaurant. I didn't want to go, but they said it was urgent.
I excused myself and went to their table, which was filled with publishing types. I remember that literary agent and editor Shawna McCarthy was there. It was a business lunch. Literary agent Don Maass sat down at the table as someone else at the table received a phone call. They handed it to me and explained that it was author Joe Haldeman on the line. He'd received a call from jaylake, years after Jay's death, and he wanted to talk to me about it. Why did he want to talk to me? Because, I was told, you know things. And because someone had listened to my voicemail for me and said that I had a message from Jay as well.
So I took the phone, and Joe started to tell this long, complicated story about his time in Vietnam, complete with 1960s soundtrack. His voice kept fading in and out and the restaurant got noisier. My date kept watching me. I moved to a table where I thought it would be quieter so that I could hear what Joe was saying. As it turned out, oldmangrumpus was in the restaurant too. He saw me and came over to introduce me to the person he was having lunch with. I waved him off. I kept trying to listen to the call, but somehow, the line was just silent.
If this isn't a metaphor for getting distracted from attending to the things I want, I can't think of a better one. I think it's interesting that it was so focused on publishing. I need to think about this one more. I need to think.