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I'm remembering my dreams again.
Friday, 12 August 2016 02:01 pm"They Might Not Know! They Might Be Idiots!"*
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A few nights ago I dreamed Pat was alive and it was back when she was healthy and we did stuff. We were living where we did before we moved into my grandparents' house. It wasn't an apartment, but the bottom half of a two-story house and all the walls were painted blue. (That might not be true, about the color of the walls, but in my dreams those walls are always an old almost-turquoise color. If you know what old rose looks like, imagine it in turquoise.)
It was summertime and we were involved in some sort of church charity for children. They put on circuses and fairs for children which . . . apparently made money. It seemed like the circus/fair was for the children, but they must have been making money as well because I stole it.
This was the third year in a row we'd been involved in the charity. I don't know what we did. But the money was kept in a downspout extender (I can't even begin to imagine where this came from—feeling like I'm pouring money down the drain?) and the first year we accidentally took it with us when we packed up to go home. (How you accidentally pack up a downspout extender when you don't own one is beyond me.) We didn't return it and nobody asked about it.
So the next year I took it on purpose.
And nothing happened.
So now we come to present-day in the dream. The circus/fair thing was just ending and I was making plans to steal the money again. Pat was waiting in the car, a car we never had. It looked something like a 1960 Chevrolet El Camino—it had a truck bed instead of back seats and a trunk. She'd thrown our luggage in the back and had the engine running. She was wearing shorts and cowboy boots. She was an outlaw.
I had to climb a ladder to get the downspout because this year they'd threaded it through a basketball hoop as a security measure. (I don't know.) And unlike the two previous times, this was all in plain view of lots of people. Nobody seemed to be paying attention and I was determined to get the money, but I was having trouble getting the downspout loose and bills were falling out and floating away.
I'm pretty sure I finally got the money, but the head of the church was chasing us when I woke up.
Yes. In my dreams, I steal money from churches and children's charities.
*Nick Greenwald
-:- -:- -:- -:-
A few nights ago I dreamed Pat was alive and it was back when she was healthy and we did stuff. We were living where we did before we moved into my grandparents' house. It wasn't an apartment, but the bottom half of a two-story house and all the walls were painted blue. (That might not be true, about the color of the walls, but in my dreams those walls are always an old almost-turquoise color. If you know what old rose looks like, imagine it in turquoise.)
It was summertime and we were involved in some sort of church charity for children. They put on circuses and fairs for children which . . . apparently made money. It seemed like the circus/fair was for the children, but they must have been making money as well because I stole it.
This was the third year in a row we'd been involved in the charity. I don't know what we did. But the money was kept in a downspout extender (I can't even begin to imagine where this came from—feeling like I'm pouring money down the drain?) and the first year we accidentally took it with us when we packed up to go home. (How you accidentally pack up a downspout extender when you don't own one is beyond me.) We didn't return it and nobody asked about it.
So the next year I took it on purpose.
And nothing happened.
So now we come to present-day in the dream. The circus/fair thing was just ending and I was making plans to steal the money again. Pat was waiting in the car, a car we never had. It looked something like a 1960 Chevrolet El Camino—it had a truck bed instead of back seats and a trunk. She'd thrown our luggage in the back and had the engine running. She was wearing shorts and cowboy boots. She was an outlaw.
I had to climb a ladder to get the downspout because this year they'd threaded it through a basketball hoop as a security measure. (I don't know.) And unlike the two previous times, this was all in plain view of lots of people. Nobody seemed to be paying attention and I was determined to get the money, but I was having trouble getting the downspout loose and bills were falling out and floating away.
I'm pretty sure I finally got the money, but the head of the church was chasing us when I woke up.
Yes. In my dreams, I steal money from churches and children's charities.
*Nick Greenwald