"Dream: I'm in a huge black(?) pickup truck"

Jan. 4, 2015 | Mayer, Mercer. Shibumi and the Kitemaker.

Notes to Self are longer journal entries from Seven Yrs Ago. I was 21 early 2015.

            Dream: I’m in a huge black(?) pickup truck and I’m driving through some street or alleyway practically blind: it’s dark and I can only see an occasional spark of light.

            I crash.

            I wake up and get out of the car and see that I’m in the alley next to the backyard of Garrett’s house. He’s outside, hobbling around and he says it’s alright, it’s here, we found it, as if he was in the car the whole time and his house was what we were looking for.

            He hobbles thru the gate to his pool and a part of me thinks I messed up his legs in the crash and I want to profusely apologize but the other part of me thinks he’s faking it for show. I follow him into the house. I’m in and it’s a more expansive version of Garrett’s house. He’s hobbling around and it looks even more fake and I call him out on it, I think, but quietly or he pays no heed, as if what I said doesn’t matter. He goes into the hallway and turns back as my professor from summer class.

            And he’s hobbling like he should be, but in a different way that makes me think he’s faking it. We go into the kitchen/other living room combo and there’s Vicky Simpson and Phoebe Lee. Phoebe Lee compliments my earrings and also casually calls out my professor for faking it.

            There was an earlier part of the dream where I went to Costco and saw Julia and we met up with her surprisingly black friends who are going to club with her at Costco (Price Club? Ahhhhh). I enter with them and we separate to get last minute groceries.

            I grab a huge bag of pepper mozzarella from the luxury cheese aisle then try to get cranberry juice from the crates hanging off the ceiling but then give up. Dahlia’s there and so are some hot or nerdy employees.

            I put back the cheese bag because I don’t know if it’ll spoil while I’m clubbing.

For commentary seven years later, go here.