Vicodine infused Dream

Sometimes the bear gets you... those times call for 1/2 a Vicodine so that your hip, wrist, thumb, and knee (yes, my knee decided to put its two cents in as well) will shut up long enough for you to get some sleep. But the resulting dream:

So my best friend from/in high school is with me; at first I thought we were in the old Literary Magazine office at my HS. She's using my old Panasonic word processor (wow, remember those things? Mine came with a "carrying handle" and everything--like you could LIFT them!?). She's flipped it upside-down and she's trying to get the disc drive to read old floppies and keep it up in batteries (it had a plug, I know, but this is dreamland.) We both, or maybe it was just me, are trying to apply to grad school. Paper is everywhere and we're definitely at my mom's house when the telephone rings (but not before then, oh my...).

It's my older brother, and I answer as my parents have already gone to bed. But as it's for my mom I go out to the hallway, which is the hallway if I were 7 again, it was wide and the lightswitch was almost too high for me to reach. My parents are up and call me to the kitchen where the card table used to be under the gold-sprayed macaroni plate/frames from kindergarten, but the table's piled with even more paper.

My brother is asking about long underwear and my mom says he can borrow mine, but I need my pair cuz I'm going to Mexico. (Happy 5 de mayo???) Apparently I'd just been there but my aunt had told me that my grandfather was too sick to see me. (He passed away 14 years ago.)

I turn to object about the underwear but now I'm in the back of a VW Bug (not beetle) on an old 80s cell phone talking to my godmother about the visit with my grandfather (where did the house go? Quien sabe!) The car is parked, my dad's in the driver's seat waiting for my mom to get off the pay phone (with my brother???) When I tell my godmother about my abuelito she says I just CAN NOT go to "X" then (I dunno, place), cuz I didn't get my grandfather's blessing so I had to go back. I hang up and tell my dad. My dad found that ridiculous cuz he is my dad and it's the dad's blessing you need but somehow I was going to Mexico anyway.

So then I'm back in the kitchen and telling my mom again that my brother simply can not borrow my long johns as San Simon (see-moan) is ripe for a dusting of snow (ummm, r-i-i-i-ght). I got the feeling we were gonna camp it out in the fields cuz someone had to watch the corn as they'd just been harvesting. She asks me for the date of the flight (not the number or the time, but the date).

I'm looking on the card table but there's just too much paper. And Karin runs out of my little brother's room telling me to put on a "little house on the prairie" skirt and must know what I was doing when I wasn't hanging out at school or going to Rocky and wasn't grounded...babysitting of course. And she has me switch sweaters with her and go talk to my brother... So in the ruffly skirt and sweater I wade through the paper that's piling up in the hallway. When I take the phone from my mom I notice she has one of those rubber pad dealies from a pair of glasses (just one though, and just the pad) on the left-side of her nose. She sees me looking at it and says it's to remind her I have an eye doctor's appointment in the morning. I just nod and take the phone and turn to wade through the paper back to the room. So much paper to wade through...

Before I speak with my brother I wake up...
Okay, could it be that I have another job application that I have to finish? Yes. Procrastination has kept me from finishing. Maybe the disappointment at not getting the last job added to this. I guess this dream was a kick in the pants to get over it and get a move on, or something. Well, that explains the paper, maybe. The rest? I dunno, waxing on the nostalgic??? Karin, are you out there? Do you know?

So be it. Must go push some paper around.