Day 15 is my dreams.
I should preface this by saying that my dreams are crack-tastic. (In politer company, I might call them eccentric.) My dreams normally resemble certain genres of video games – there’s usually someone or many someones trying to capture and/or kill me, and I get to evade and survive in any way possible. Sometimes there’s futuristic tech, sometimes magic, often telekinesis and/or shapeshifting, and usually modern martial arts and weaponry. I especially love the ones where I get to see (or be) my creatures.
Last night’s dreams, however, were rather tame.
I dreamt of an older lady hitting on me drunkenly, of attending an SJ Tucker house concert, and of getting rowdy and wrestly with a group of random young men who were all being informally instructed by J’s sensei. (That one involved knives and tests of strength, which makes it the most typical of all these snippets.)
Most notably, though, I dreamt that I woke up, looked at my laptop (which stays on the nightstand, playing music while we sleep), and saw the shipping status of my package was listed as “on truck for delivery” some forty minutes prior to my awakening. I stumbled out of bed, put clothes on, and checked the door– only to find the dreaded sorry we missed you slip. And I was about to cry as I flipped the paper over, saw a phone number, thought maybe the delivery lady was still nearby and I could call her and catch her and–
And then I did wake up, and looked at the tracking page for my package, and saw that it was on the truck as of twenty minutes ago. I staggered up and got dressed. But there was no bad news stuck to my door in the waking world, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I did, however, spend the rest of the day hovering nervously and staring down the street, my ears atwitch at every noise that sounded like a truck in the driveway.
And at 3h30 PM – keep in mind, I got up somewhere around 9h30 – a FedEx truck finally pulled up and handed me my brand new sexy black electric bass guitar.
I named him Kitten.