I’m in my living room with my sister, and it seems like we have more pets than previously accounted for. I feel guilty because I’ve always poured all my love into my IRL cat and ignored all these other animals! I’m a monster.
There’s a poodle, its white curly fur all dirty like we never bathed him. There’s another cat, a tabby, and an orange robot monkey. The tabby brings a bowl of food to the monkey, who makes a disgusted face. I say pointedly,
Be kind!
The monkey obeys me and starts eating, but I realize there’s mostly hay and rocks in the bowl and take it away. My mother is sitting on the couch, she asks if she can have it. I say no, it’s dirty and the animals ate in it. She says it doesn’t matter, she can have her floss directly from the box.
I ask her if she’s really eating floss, she says,
Yes, the minty one. Can you bring it? It’s on my nightstand.
It’s morning, I’m walking to the store when I hear my boss calling my name with a weak, whiny tone. Her voice comes from a house alongside the road: IRL that house simply doesn’t exist, there are only trees in that area, but in the dream I see a small yellow duplex covered in dried vines.
I go inside the door on the right, I see a one room apartment with a large bed. Boss Lady is in the bed, hair all tousled and looking sick and miserable. The floor is covered in used paper tissues. I avert my eyes because it looks all too intimate, and I wonder where her dogs are. Just then a man arrive, a dog sitter no doubt, leading the two dachshunds on a leash. I take them both and they fall asleep on my lap.
They neighbor family arrives, I can see them clearly because there’s no walls inside the duplex. They sit all around the bed and start reminiscing about a lawyer who used to live here in the house. He was found guilty of murder, and everyone agrees it’s such a shame, he was such a distinguished man. I leave the house so I don’t have to admit to these rich people that I believe the lawyer was definitely guilty.
I’m visiting an old English village, the kind with pretty stone cottages. Unfortunately there has been a big fire and the buildings are all black and charred. I’m a BBC journalist and I’m walking around to assess the damage; I see the older villagers gathered under a tent, gossiping about the fire – judging by their clothes I’d say we are in the early 80s, they all look out of a Murder:She Wrote episode.
I walk to the local high school, where the teens are wearing corduroy bell bottoms and colorful vests, and ask to speak from the school intercom. Everyone gasps in delight when I start speaking: I’m a trained journalist, there is no mic feedback and my Ps simply don’t pop, they whisper pleasantly from my mouth.
I announce to the school that the BBC is gonna make a TV series about the village fire, and the revenue money is gonna pay for the reconstruction.
…after all, you have an award winning actress living here!
That’s right, Meryl Streep lives in this village.
Then I dream that my dad has agreed to work with a young man and woman to stop an underage prostitution ring. He’s talking with someone on the phone, another young woman*, he has my elementary school notebook open in front of him and he’s reading from it.
I’m very disappointed in him, I think he should talk to the police instead of believing these two people. And indeed they start acting crazy, the guy takes a saw and cuts his dog almost in half. There is no blood but I still cry in despair. The girl, who is his sister, patches the dog together with a long white gauze, and the poor animal seems as good as new.
*This is a person who IRL was arrested in my town a few days ago for selling out her underage sisters, so there’s an awful rage still fresh in my mind.
It’s dark and stormy, outside my window I can see a tomato tree: not just a plant, it’s a big palm tree ripe with red tomatoes and shaking in the rain.
Everyone is my home is wearing a t-shirt even though it’s March, and I’m ranting about climate change. Remember when we used to have winters? Good times. My grandma is sitting on the couch caressing her belly. She’s pregnant, but she explains the baby belongs to a cousin and she just borrowed it for a while. Indeed a few minutes later her belly disappears and my uncle E. walks in the room to announce the baby is born: they named him Christian.
Meanwhile, my dad is doing some charity work for people with Down syndrome. A portal opens inside the organization’s building, and yes, it’s Doctor Who again. She walks in with her squad and leads everyone into the portal and across a long path filled with blue crystals and dangerous gases. After a long walk they emerge on the other side and the doctor collapses. Her companion, Yaz, kneels next to her and gets the psychic paper from her coat. It’s a leather wallet that, once opened, reveals a long string of photos depicting all of the Doctor’s past companions. Yaz gets mighty jealous.
Back home, I’m looking for my dogs* and cats. I spot a few black kittens playing on the floor, but where is my very own grown up cat? She’s hiding under the table! I take her out and the moment she comes in contact with the kittens, she merges with them. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle and the result is a single, slightly bigger black cat.
*I don’t have dogs, these were actually two dachshunds that belong to my boss IRL
My sister is being insufferable as always, to shut her up I turn her into a cat. And not just any cat, but my very own black, grumpy kitten. I put this creature that is both my sister and my cat in her carrier (she bites me through the bars) and bring her to the vet.
I meet my friend F. there, he tells me it’s not much, but he put some free menstrual pads aside for me. I thank him warmly. As I’m sitting in the waiting room though, two men steal my pads. I confront them with all my wit and sarcasm and humiliate them into giving my pads back.
My breakfast toasts are wrong: instead of mozzarella, they are filled with slices of pale, unripe pumpkin . There’s also a bread roll on the table, it has peanut butter sticks inside; my brother grabs it and takes a bite, I yell because the sticks are actually cat food, but it’s too late, he has eaten the bread.
It’s time to walk to school! I’m running through a meadow because I’m late. On my way I meet two unnamed voice actors and their dog, I explain to them I’m going to “phone school“.* I finally reach the building and it’s not my IRL High School: it’s a ~technical school that I apparently decided to transfer to. Inside there is a massively high ceiling and a lot of stairs moving and intertwining, a bit like Hogwarts but much more airy and modern.
My class is in the upmost right corner, I hurry up the stairs and I’m very relieved to realize I’m only five minutes late. The teacher pops his head from the door, he’s my usual philosophy prof but there’s something different this time: he has a big smile, like he’s enjoying himself, for once. He gives me a pair of scissors and tasks me with cutting out the tags from his sweater. But wait, all my classmates are teenagers, I realize with a sudden jolt. I’m an adult in my 30s! How am I supposed to get along with them!?
Back home, I boot up The Sims. Since I have all the expansion packs, I find some oriental clothes and objects. I create two Sims, an old Chinese woman and her daughter, give them musical instruments, and listen to them playing in the snow for a while.
*My new job is indeed at a phone store, but of course I’d still be stuck in high school in some way.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 