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Wednesday, July 28, 2021

Dreams and a Storm

I dreamed that Hillel, my friend of close to 40 years, whose been happily married for 30 of those, had begun a romance with my friend Suzz (who I've not seen in about 20 years). In the dream neither were spoken for and this was a world beater of a romance.

Suzz was helping me plan my birthday party (which I might actually have) and kept spacing out. She apologized, saying that she and Hillel had been up ALL night making love.
Do I need to crank the AC in here or am I having a hot flash?
I dreamed that Bruce Willis was one of my housemates—not yet a rich and well known but one-trick-pony actor. We all lived in a big old Victorian near the Wildwood Boardwalk in New Jersey.
Bad traffic. I guess everyone's back to the office now.
He was going in for an audition which, for some odd reason, required pills. Knowing that I take, minimum, a dozen a day, he came in and sloppily emptied my pill box. I was, natürlich, pissed beyond words. Me and the other roomies decided payback was in order. We got Bruce to go out paddle boarding with the rest of us. We dunked him, pills and all. It was a most satisfying revenge.

In yet another dream, I was walking through an upscale mall which was decked out beyond the nines and back for Christmas. ‘the fuck!? It’s July and, anyway, I hate all that Christmas glitz and faux joyous horse manure. Interestingly enough, for me, in Dream World I wasn’t annoyed at all. It was beautiful and fascinating.

These were just three of last night’s movieolas. Busy night? Warum? Possibly it’s a random reaction to:

  • Yesterday’s trip into town to see my PCP. This makes no goddamn sense. I was in my wheelchair most of the time—that’s hardly strenuous exercise.
  • The giant storm that hit around 7PM? It was truly scary. I thought one of the trees outside my window might blow over. Coco was fine until the thunder and lightening started—at that point she had to go downstairs to hide under my green velvet chair.

So, how did my PCP visit go? Not so bad, though traffic was horrendous. I guess everyone's working in the office again. Also and apparently, there’s no magic pill for weight loss. Since exercising (apart from rehab) is severely limited, I need to reduce my portion intake a LOT. Being an emotional eater (I have an emotion, I eat) makes this extra difficult.

My protein levels are down which just means that I need to up my fart inflaming black bean meals. That and tofu WHICH, seasoned creatively, is actually tasty. Seriously.

All in all, not a horrifying appointment.

Possibly the plethora of dreams are related to getting more results from Coco’s vet appointment. They want to do a $500+ (OUCH!) ultra sound to investigate her weight loss further. Before that, we’ll change her diet to something healthier (no more Burger King for our angel! Kidding, kidding—we’d never give Coco that drek.) and do another test to see if she has irritable bowl syndrome. I had NO idea that cats could get that.

At any rate, the night was entertaining and I'm pleased as all motherfucking hell that none of our trees crashed through the window.


  1. I don't get it - the last time we took her to the vet she was two pounds overweight. She lost three pounds, only one pound underweight. Runs around the house like a kitten, have to take mice away from her. And that food!? five dollars a can ...

  2. She's worth every dime. Also, great perspective on the weight issue—I'll quit worrying so intensely.