After three parties, two rehearsals, and two recording sessions, I caught a nasty cold this weekend, just in time for another crazy week of three gigs, each of which is important enough that I can’t even think about thinking about missing one.  The good news is that I don’t have to worry about working or anything, because every day’s a sick day when you’re unemployed.

One thing about being sick is that I’ve spent much more time in bed than usual, which has provided the opportunity for many more dreams than usual too.  Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn this into an all-dreams-all-the-time blog, but they’ve been unusually long and detailed.  The one in the previous entry (the one with the ‘coherent narrative’) has actually been the shortest of the three.  Last night’s involved a meeting and long conversation with my girlfriend from college, who I haven’t talked to since right after I moved to Portland, and who doesn’t seem to be on any of the usual social networking sites, either.   I’d actually really love to see how she’s been doing.  I’ve looked her up from time to time, so far to no avail.

The night before last, I dreamt that I was in this building full of not-quite-humans (something was different about their eyes, and some of the ‘people’ were very reptilian-looking) who kept trying to assimilate me and entrap me in their building forever.  I kept trying to escape, and they kept catching me and bringing me back.  They even created a ‘perfect’ girl for me, in the hopes of seducing me into their group, but they spent all their time on her face and her legs, and left the rest of her body slightly unfinished, which. . .let’s just say, didn’t have the desired effect that they had hoped for.  Once, I actually escaped and saw a friend of mine outside the grounds (C, my filmmaker friend who lives in SaintFrancisCity), but realized that I’d forgotten both my shoes and my pants, so I told him I’d just go back in and grab them and that I’d be right back.  Naturally, however, they caught me again.   At one point, they realized that I play guitar, which gave them the idea to create a big stage and a band, whereby I could teach lessons and put on rock shows to my heart’s content, but I said, “That’s nice, but I’m probably just going to try and leave again anyway.”

Very strange dream, and I woke up and then went back into it at least fifteen or twenty times, which is also extremely rare.

I think that may be enough dream talk for now, quite frankly.  I only write out and share the ones that I think make compelling enough reading, and these two were far too long and detailed to do that.  The previous one ended up being almost three thousand words, and I realize that’s an awful lot to ask y’all to read.  Dream-sharing in blogs is not always the most entertaining thing for readers, either, so I try to be judicious about doing that.

Moving on.

Today is St. Patrick’s Day, and despite being sick and feeling hellish, I’m playing (and singing; I sing backup, which means lots of high harmonies) tonight with IrishBand until two o’clock in the morning, then packing up and driving at least one other person home, so it’ll probably be like three before I get home myself.

Hope you have a great St. P’s Day.  If you have a shot of Irish whiskey for me, I’ll have a shot of TheraFlu for you in return.