Sleeping in Cars
Jul. 15th, 2002 09:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beetigerI wasn't able to sleep much in the car on the way home from Anthrocon. Bard was driving, so I could have. Julia had no trouble sleeping -when has she ever? - but even though I was exhausted, I was restless. The main time I ever can sleep in the car is when Bard is driving home from one of our parents' houses. For some reason, a post-parental visit tires me, and those highways soothe me.
This morning, I woke up to find out that the friend I'd expected to show up at my house for a driving stop on his way back from Anthrocon had in fact come in when I was asleep, and was sleeping on the couch as I'd told him he could. He'd brought another friend whom he was taking home to Albany. They didn't want to wake me up, and apparently the second friend didn't feel right coming into my house uninvited, so he slept in the cab of the truck they were traveling in, on the curb in front of my house. When I stepped out at five am, I told him that he was being silly, of course he was welcome, and should come in to rest. He insisted he was comfortable, so I let him be, though I'm pretty sure my neighbors will not think well of me when they pass a man sleeping in an old truck on the street, feet sticking out of the window, as they head out on their morning commute.
I had to drive Julia to meet a 5:45 am bus back to Boston, which meant that by six am I was alone five minutes away from my office, which is not quite enough time to drive home, get any decent amount of rest, and drive back to my office. So I decided to sleep in my car, in the parking lot at my office, for a few hours, before coming in to work. I'd done roughly the same thing in the very early spring, after dropping a friend who had visited off at the White Plains airport for an early flight, so I still had a pillow and a warm flannel blanket I'd never taken out of the back seat of the car. I set the alarm on my Palm Pilot and curled up on the back seat. Occasionally, being only five feet tall has its advantages. I certainly fell asleep, though because it was bright out I slept in fits and starts, only about twenty minutes at a shot. After about an hour, I realized I was really warm. I laughed at myself, realizing that being covered in a big flannel blanket was probably not right for July. I took it off, but kept holding on to just a corner, as I have trouble sleeping without clutching something.
i think that perhaps i want to get some air so i don't die like one of those puppies bad careless people leave in cars in the mall parking lot on hot summer days so i try to roll down the window i realize i need to turn the car on to do it so the radio comes on blasting and the air conditioning and this is soothing so i can rest a bit then sometime later people find me spread out in my back seat on the street with the radio loud loud they laugh but they wake me up it takes them several tries to get my eyes open and it's light dark light dark light a man and a woman are trying to keep up with a child who is skipping fast she is asking them questions what are you playing in the parade the woman says i will be so far back you will not see my flute then the girl passes me (she's got blonde hair, but otherwise you could imagine she was my daughter) and she asks me if you will be able to see my flute when we play i realize i am much further forward than her mother (although i've missed practice now and i may get demoted, i didn't realize there was a part that far back) so i tell her than i will be singing so there will be no instrument to see she acts a bit surprised by this and like she's going to ask more questions but i'm in the driveway now so i let them all jog by.
it's my house, the yellow house i live in now except it's my parents house except when i get to the front it is the wrong house it is marked number 3 on the board so i look on the back of the board to see if it changed, it is marked number 5 so it is still wrong i think i may have gone to the wrong house i go next door that's even more wrong the next house has the word welcome written in the grass with big bright firey colored flowers like they do at the fronts of big corporations and amusement parks so i go back to the first house it looks better now in the driveway my parents meet me it's the version of my parents before they got divorced and when my dad was still wearing a hairpiece and of course when he was still alive and they invite me in i've just come home from somewhere a long trip away but not that long they seem to think i've been away much shorter than i do my mom likes my dress but she wants to know if that means i'll find the other dress the one with the sun on it i don't know what she's talking about so i say okay we go into the kitchen and we sit at the table and they tell me what's for lunch turkey and fruit and bread and i'm hoping they will serve the turkey cold because it is a hot day and i don't want hot food and i realize that telling me the menu is not something my parents would do, it's something bard's parents would do.
And I wake up back in the car, having just had that quick semi-lucidish dream, I suppose. I really don't want my coworkers walking by and seeing my underwear, since my skirt seems to have hiked up while I slept, and it's almost 8:00 anyway, so I get up. I think about Trickster, and I think about coming up here and typing the dream down before anyone else arrives in my office. Even as I repeat the plot in my head to myself, I realize I'm losing pieces, but I'm determined to try. I get out of the car, and close the doors. I buy a strawberry banana smoothie in the cafeteria. I'd wanted cottage cheese, but that cooler hadn't been filled yet. And I come up here, and type.
This morning, I woke up to find out that the friend I'd expected to show up at my house for a driving stop on his way back from Anthrocon had in fact come in when I was asleep, and was sleeping on the couch as I'd told him he could. He'd brought another friend whom he was taking home to Albany. They didn't want to wake me up, and apparently the second friend didn't feel right coming into my house uninvited, so he slept in the cab of the truck they were traveling in, on the curb in front of my house. When I stepped out at five am, I told him that he was being silly, of course he was welcome, and should come in to rest. He insisted he was comfortable, so I let him be, though I'm pretty sure my neighbors will not think well of me when they pass a man sleeping in an old truck on the street, feet sticking out of the window, as they head out on their morning commute.
I had to drive Julia to meet a 5:45 am bus back to Boston, which meant that by six am I was alone five minutes away from my office, which is not quite enough time to drive home, get any decent amount of rest, and drive back to my office. So I decided to sleep in my car, in the parking lot at my office, for a few hours, before coming in to work. I'd done roughly the same thing in the very early spring, after dropping a friend who had visited off at the White Plains airport for an early flight, so I still had a pillow and a warm flannel blanket I'd never taken out of the back seat of the car. I set the alarm on my Palm Pilot and curled up on the back seat. Occasionally, being only five feet tall has its advantages. I certainly fell asleep, though because it was bright out I slept in fits and starts, only about twenty minutes at a shot. After about an hour, I realized I was really warm. I laughed at myself, realizing that being covered in a big flannel blanket was probably not right for July. I took it off, but kept holding on to just a corner, as I have trouble sleeping without clutching something.
i think that perhaps i want to get some air so i don't die like one of those puppies bad careless people leave in cars in the mall parking lot on hot summer days so i try to roll down the window i realize i need to turn the car on to do it so the radio comes on blasting and the air conditioning and this is soothing so i can rest a bit then sometime later people find me spread out in my back seat on the street with the radio loud loud they laugh but they wake me up it takes them several tries to get my eyes open and it's light dark light dark light a man and a woman are trying to keep up with a child who is skipping fast she is asking them questions what are you playing in the parade the woman says i will be so far back you will not see my flute then the girl passes me (she's got blonde hair, but otherwise you could imagine she was my daughter) and she asks me if you will be able to see my flute when we play i realize i am much further forward than her mother (although i've missed practice now and i may get demoted, i didn't realize there was a part that far back) so i tell her than i will be singing so there will be no instrument to see she acts a bit surprised by this and like she's going to ask more questions but i'm in the driveway now so i let them all jog by.
it's my house, the yellow house i live in now except it's my parents house except when i get to the front it is the wrong house it is marked number 3 on the board so i look on the back of the board to see if it changed, it is marked number 5 so it is still wrong i think i may have gone to the wrong house i go next door that's even more wrong the next house has the word welcome written in the grass with big bright firey colored flowers like they do at the fronts of big corporations and amusement parks so i go back to the first house it looks better now in the driveway my parents meet me it's the version of my parents before they got divorced and when my dad was still wearing a hairpiece and of course when he was still alive and they invite me in i've just come home from somewhere a long trip away but not that long they seem to think i've been away much shorter than i do my mom likes my dress but she wants to know if that means i'll find the other dress the one with the sun on it i don't know what she's talking about so i say okay we go into the kitchen and we sit at the table and they tell me what's for lunch turkey and fruit and bread and i'm hoping they will serve the turkey cold because it is a hot day and i don't want hot food and i realize that telling me the menu is not something my parents would do, it's something bard's parents would do.
And I wake up back in the car, having just had that quick semi-lucidish dream, I suppose. I really don't want my coworkers walking by and seeing my underwear, since my skirt seems to have hiked up while I slept, and it's almost 8:00 anyway, so I get up. I think about Trickster, and I think about coming up here and typing the dream down before anyone else arrives in my office. Even as I repeat the plot in my head to myself, I realize I'm losing pieces, but I'm determined to try. I get out of the car, and close the doors. I buy a strawberry banana smoothie in the cafeteria. I'd wanted cottage cheese, but that cooler hadn't been filled yet. And I come up here, and type.
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Obligatory Dream Interpretation
Date: 2002-07-15 05:54 pm (UTC)There is a common theme of familial stresses throughout the dream; the house that you can't locate, the child that wants you to see her play in the parade (and the repeated flute references are probably latently sexual). There's a sense of anxiety about being abandoned, or missing events (which I can personally attest is very common around a convention, for people who maintain con obligations).
In this dream, the anxiety pertains indirectly to experiences in your childhood, and probably to your current sexuality. There's something your mind is trying to keep you from ruminating on, some childhood stress that pertains to your life at present. This is quite possibly a stress to be acknowledged by family members that is coming back on you as you try to be acknowledged in another area of your life, an area of your life that deals with intimate relationships or sexuality (or possibly gender).
That's about all I can read.
Trickster