First of all, I hate when people tell me their crazy dreams but here are some of the elements of the one I had early this morning between that Batscope hour and time to wake up…
— I was in high school.
— I needed to get my books out of my locker.
— I had “forgotten” to go to one class all semester and particularly needed that book.
— I could not find my locker. I knew my locker number but the lockers were scattered throughout the school in a random fashion. There was a “map” but it made absolutely no sense.
— Going up and down the stairs involved climbing ladders. Steel ladders that went straight up and down and didn’t provide a way to get off at the top other than asking the folks below you to *push* you off the top rung… Actually, that was so stressful, my brain found me some real stairs the next time I needed to change floors.
— School got out at 3:30 and it was 4:30 and I still could not find my locker. My mother would be home from work soon and I wouldn’t be there. [Two not necessarily related things here: 1) when I was actually IN high school, my mother taught at my school and 2) my brain broke into the dream to say, “You are a mature adult and your mom doesn’t care when you get home.” If you are one of my nine reglear nucular taggers, you know my mom is not even on the earth any more.]
— FINALLY, I found my locker. But then I couldn’t get the combination to work.
— I was fully clothed throughout the dream and didn’t have to p** so there was that.
Nevertheless, I was haunted by that dream all day. It is Art Fair Week on The Planet Ann Arbor and we had plans to walk downtown to attend the “townie party” that has been happening the Monday of Art Fair Week these last few years. We aren’t actually townies but we’ve lived here a pretty doggamn long time now and our children were born and raised here so they qualify as full-blooded townies. We’ve never attended the “townie party” and I was lukewarm about it. The GG was more interested.
We never made it to the townie party, at least not the one that happened downtown. I was anxious and cranky all day and even though we met up at one of our fave restaurants downtown (other than the Oscar Tango), it just wasn’t working out for me. We sat at the bar and, although the service was friendly, it seemed more disorganized than usual, with the staff madly running in and out to cover both the interior and the folks sitting outside. We asked for menus and made decisions about food and then no one came back to take our orders. I don’t fault the servers. It felt to me that the restaurant had not properly planned staff for today. But my already high anxiety level had risen and finally I said to the GG, “How ’bout let’s try our luck at Knights?” I meant the Knights in our neighborhood, not the new one down in the old Jacobson’s/Borders store on Liberty. Of all things, that turned out to be a go, so I put out my debit card and we paid (and tipped decently) and hoofed it all the way back over to the west side, where we ate at Knights’ bar.
Townie party? Knight’s is *always* a townie party, even if the folks have driven in from Pinckney or wherever. We talked to at least three different groups of people while we were there (one of them *from* Pinckney). Walked across the street to watch the skateboarders for a little bit afterward then home again.