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Dreams

I remember a few different dreams from last night:

In the first one, I was lounging around with my friend Tom G., who died eleven years ago, in the apartment we used to share, and talking about the music I'd been listening to lately. I always like the dreams about him that somehow skip both the "hey, you're supposed to be dead" AND weird explanations/guilt about why we haven't seen each other in so long. In this dream, he'd stayed in that apartment (and somehow learned to keep it reasonably clean without me!) and I'd moved on, but we didn't get into the how or why, just talked about music like we would if he was alive.

One thing that was odd was pretty much all the music I talked about was fictional and only existed in that dream, with the exception of "The Long Straight Forever", which is a real band but I haven't been listening to them. I've had a lot of dreams of being in a bookstore excitedly discovering books that don't exist in real life, but this is the first dream I can recall of imaginary CDs. And I was telling all sorts of details about them too, like talking about the solo projects of the imaginary members of imaginary bands.

This transitioned into a dream about a concert, which was somehow simultaneously at the Ford Parkway Music-Go-Round if you were inside, and at someone's house on a more scenic parkway if you were outside. My very-much-alive friend Tom M. who works at the Music-Go-Round was there at the counter, and at the start he was wearing a young-monk-from-"Name of the Rose" Halloween costume I had made for the deceased Tom G. many years ago. Then he spilled something on it, which he was quite unhappy about. The Hummingbirds (who I had heard at Convergence) played a show, as did one other band I was excited about, but I forget who they were.

Then this somehow moved on to my last dream before I woke up, which seemed totally unrelated to the previous ones. I was Harry Potter at Hogwarts, going on a supposedly dangerous rescue mission into a long-sealed-off section of the school to rescue an unconscious girl. I kept thinking that any moment, the real, magical danger would appear, but it never did. I was just trying to make my way through an obstacle course of bindery equipment, just like the bindery equipment that fills the back of the pressroom at my work in real life, since the owners of the company bought way too much of it at a going-out-of-business auction at another printing company. I had to move it around and prop big, heavy doors open with it, and it was close together and hard to get through, but there was no magical danger as I expected. By the time I woke up, I had gotten the girl out and was in the process of going back for her bookbag and stuff.

I think that last dream is some kind of metaphor for my job, where I've been spending a lot of time on this seemingly-never-ending bindery project rather than my normal work (though yesterday I spent doing my regular work).

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