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Dream Journal

Bathtub, Petting Pet Rats, Cracked Windshield

Long time in the bathtub together with my wife. Soaking at opposite ends, both on our phones. Searching for a song I’m trying to remember, something relevant to our conversation. I step out of the bath for a second to go to the bathroom door, noticing that I have a boot and sock on my right foot, which I’ve been hanging out the bathtub this whole time without thinking about it.

Petting my rats in their cage, petting all of them by name. Swapping between old ones and new ones. Xolito gets pets. I notice how much slower my older rats are, much easier and accepting of affection. I’m trying to remember something about one of our newer rats, where I got it, or maybe what its name was — something like Lapassan Confederacy? This is mixed up with the other drain or I was trying to remember.

I need to get the car key back from my former friend Sarah G., who lives in the East Bay instead of the Mission (like she really does). As I arrive at the parked car I remember I need to let her know I’m coming in case she’s not home — but I realize I still have the other key to drive right now so it doesn’t matter as much. I find the car’s windshield cracked open in a very specific way on the driver’s side. I’d kind of been expecting this what with the age of the car. It’s always some damn thing. I immediately take some pictures as evidence, but realize my tarp is still partially laying over the car — insurance might blame me for that, despite how silly that theory is. I pull it off and lay over a nearby electrical wire under a tree over the sidewalk.


Fragments:

  • Wandering the streets of New York (or maybe the Mission District in earlier days) looking for Zorhan Mamdani.
  • Burning Man — what about Burning Man? Seems like a setting from much earlier in the dream sequence, but no idea its relation to anything else.
Categories
Dream Journal

Extra Jacket Rat

We have two rats. I left one rat out of the cage, with my new Neapolitan white jacket on top of that. Go to put it back and there’s a new small rat I don’t recognize, nesting there with my rat. Decide to make him part of the tribe and see how things go, surprise my wife.

My old friend Spy seems to receive bad news at my house, but I don’t pry. In the space of the house there are many illuminated images from old children’s books that look really good, a lot are rural-themed. It looks like a carefully curated collection from ’70s stuff found at thrift shops, the kind of thing Spy might have made.

Younger guy seemingly following me around a pool, either naievete or annoyance. Helping guy with mystery clay meth pipe left on table. The pipe itself is much more story-rich, but I can’t recall.