A few nights ago, I had a dream that Amanda Palmer and I got bow tie tattoos together, and then she had a house concert in our apartment. At one point, she decided to have an intermission so she could grab some drinks and just chew the fat with people, but somehow a friend of mine from college offended her deeply. She got all upset and she zoomed off in a car made of pizza that had pepperoni for wheels.
Later, we found out she was caught in a dust storm.
I guess I’m not entirely sure what a dream like that would mean. Maybe you want to take a crack at it. Let me know if you come up with anything.
The rest of the week, literally every night, I dreamed I was wandering through the aisles of a pillow store, searching for just the right pillow. Aisles and aisles of pillows. No front door or back door or restroom to be found in this store. And all the pillows? They all looked exactly the same, felt exactly the same. But none of them were the *right* one. I couldn’t find the right pillow.
I have a slightly better idea what that dream is about. I think I need a new pillow.
I guess what I’m saying is, I haven’t been sleeping very well.
And, I guess what else I’m saying is, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed moving around in this space. It feels good to be back.