Good morning, Readers!
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My brain is a weird place at the best of times. When I'm stressed or anxious about something, though, it goes off the chain.
I'm anxious about heading off to Calgary in a couple of day's time. So, naturally, my brain decided to fuck with my dreams.
In my dreams, I arrived in Calgary, and headed to the hotel. Of course, though, I arrived a day early because I'm an idiot and don't know how calendars work (this is actually very accurate. I will be arriving in Calgary a day early), so in my dream, I met up with Jasmine and we sat down for a bit. In my dream, the youth hostel I'm staying in the first night was right beside the hotel that was hosting the convention, so I left my suitcase with Jasmine and went to check in.
This hotel was in a pedestrian mall. Beneath it was a fun, hip Asian fusion restaurant. Up the stairs I went, to find a Vegas-style hotel (you know, the ones that try to make it like you're outside, when really all they've done is pain clouds on the ceiling and paved the floor), but it was absolutely deserted. There was no one. I went to the reception desk, and there was no one there.
I wandered deeper into this weird place. I found a side room which was a guest computer room, but it was full of guys playing games. I ended up walking out again, and going around the back, where I was faced with a muddy yard, with a rusted iron fence. Television screens were dotted along that fence each displaying the face of John Malkovich. I don't know why.
So I go back around and search some more. Where do I check in, damn it?! I keep searching this apparently abandoned place when I run into a couple holding hands. They kindly point me back out to the yard with the television-strewn fence. Apparently I need to talk to the televisions.
That's precisely what I did. I told the John Malkovichs that I needed to check in. Then a slender, elderly man appeared out of nowhere and said that all I needed to do was come in and claim a bed. He'd show me where they are. He opened the gate.
I stepped into the yard and the old man led me to a side entrance that should have had stairs, but instead it was just more dirt and rocks and grass. It was quite steep, and washed away near the bottom, so I had to slide down before I hit the paved ground of what looked like an ordinary hall with doors at regular intervals going down each wall.
The old man needed help getting down, so I turned and offered my hand. He took it and took a step and then the cat jumped on my bed and I woke up.
That was my dream.
My brain is weird. I'm off to make preparations for my trip.
Ciao!
I'm anxious about heading off to Calgary in a couple of day's time. So, naturally, my brain decided to fuck with my dreams.
In my dreams, I arrived in Calgary, and headed to the hotel. Of course, though, I arrived a day early because I'm an idiot and don't know how calendars work (this is actually very accurate. I will be arriving in Calgary a day early), so in my dream, I met up with Jasmine and we sat down for a bit. In my dream, the youth hostel I'm staying in the first night was right beside the hotel that was hosting the convention, so I left my suitcase with Jasmine and went to check in.
This hotel was in a pedestrian mall. Beneath it was a fun, hip Asian fusion restaurant. Up the stairs I went, to find a Vegas-style hotel (you know, the ones that try to make it like you're outside, when really all they've done is pain clouds on the ceiling and paved the floor), but it was absolutely deserted. There was no one. I went to the reception desk, and there was no one there.
I wandered deeper into this weird place. I found a side room which was a guest computer room, but it was full of guys playing games. I ended up walking out again, and going around the back, where I was faced with a muddy yard, with a rusted iron fence. Television screens were dotted along that fence each displaying the face of John Malkovich. I don't know why.
So I go back around and search some more. Where do I check in, damn it?! I keep searching this apparently abandoned place when I run into a couple holding hands. They kindly point me back out to the yard with the television-strewn fence. Apparently I need to talk to the televisions.
That's precisely what I did. I told the John Malkovichs that I needed to check in. Then a slender, elderly man appeared out of nowhere and said that all I needed to do was come in and claim a bed. He'd show me where they are. He opened the gate.
I stepped into the yard and the old man led me to a side entrance that should have had stairs, but instead it was just more dirt and rocks and grass. It was quite steep, and washed away near the bottom, so I had to slide down before I hit the paved ground of what looked like an ordinary hall with doors at regular intervals going down each wall.
The old man needed help getting down, so I turned and offered my hand. He took it and took a step and then the cat jumped on my bed and I woke up.
That was my dream.
My brain is weird. I'm off to make preparations for my trip.
Ciao!
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