Like a lot of people these days, I am working from home for a little bit. Apropos of nothing, or perhaps just to pass the early morning hours (I get a little more time in the day sans-commute), I decided to start recording my dreams.
For a long time, it seems, I haven’t been remembering my dreams. I get my coffee, go to the gym (or more often than not, don’t go to the gym and get a muffin instead), and wonder why I don’t remember my dreams as I’m jogging (walking) on the treadmill (sitting, eating my muffin). I mean, I have to be dreaming, right? It’s just that I don’t remember them, right?
I convinced myself to write them down as soon as I woke up, put pen and notepad next to the bed, and hoped that freshness would preserve something. Here is the fly in the amber.
I was with friends in Russia (?) trying to make it to a party together but we got strung out in a path to reach the party, got separated but then met up again in a park. It was a race to the party. My friend Allen, from college, was leading my group but made us lose the race because he made a side bet that he would stop if the flavor in his gum ran out before he got there. And the flavor in his gum ran out.
So, thanks a lot Allen.