a dream I had about being late for work

I should’ve known something wasn’t right; something, that is, other than the fact that I was late for work. Technically I wasn’t, but I was scheduled to start my shift in about ten minutes, my drive would take about that long if I drove recklessly, and I wasn’t even close to being ready to leave the house; a house I haven’t lived in for almost twenty years. Never mind the fact that I haven’t worked there in nearly five.

Nonetheless there I was, in a partly self-induced panic. I say “partly self-induced” not because it was my fault I was going to be late, even though it sort of was because I’d simply lost track of time, but because I wasn’t going to be in any real trouble for calling in late, showing up late without calling in or even being absent for the day. It just would’ve been the first such mark on my excellent attendance record.

Not showing up for the day without calling would’ve been a big deal; they refer to that as a No Call No Show; but even that worse-case scenario wouldn’t have gotten me fired or anything like that. Besides all I had to do was call and say I couldn’t come in or say I was going to be late or just show-up late. I took pride in my near-perfect punctuality though; this is also true in real life; and didn’t want to ruin it.

I could’ve ran out of the house right then, drove fast and probably made it on time, but there was no way I was going to show up for work, around all those people; fine girls included; without at least washing my face, which wouldn’t have been a problem if I hadn’t just shaved. A full-on shower was out of the question; forget brushing my teeth; but I also wanted to wash under my arms if at possible. I simply had no time.

That is until I noticed, in what if I were a believer would’ve been an act of God, I’d gotten the time wrong. In my haste, I thought I had to be to work in about ten minutes, but another glance at the clock confirmed it was actually still 1-something, meaning I had more time than I thought. That instantly put me in manic rush mode as I rushed about, trying to cover as many of the hygienic/beauty essentials as possible.

It wasn’t until I woke up, heart still pounding and breathing heavy, that I realized it was all a dream. I was happy, or at least quite relieved, not to have to go to work today… to a job I haven’t worked in nearly five years. The house I miss though, perhaps dearly so, if only because it holds some of my most cherished childhood memories. The nostalgia is strong, but at least I get to visit it in these crazy dreams.

2024 [ April 20 ]

a dream I had about finally meeting an ex-housemate

She wasn’t so bad now that I got a good look at her. Not that I thought she looked bad the one time I’d seen her before. It was her loud annoying ghetto-ass personality that made me despise her. She was, metaphorically speaking, the neighbor from Hell, at least for as long as she lasted.

She wasn’t even supposed to be staying there in the other living area of the house. It was probably more of a large condo. In either case, the landlord evicted her when they found out she was staying there illegally. Now she was back, at my front door, just a few days before I myself was set to leave.

“You’re the one,” I don’t think I ever finished the sentence, but I was going to say that she’s the girl who got kicked out, as if she didn’t know. “Yeah,” she acknowledged with a slight, perhaps slightly embarrassed, grin. Without hesitation, I nonverbally, and rather ironically, invited her in.

I forgot what all we talked about, but it started with what happened; her living there for several weeks and getting kicked out. As we walked around; I think she came back to grab a few things she’d left; it seemed obvious there was some kind of sexual, if not romantic, chemistry between us.

She’s not really my type physically. She’s short and petite, which I like, but she’s dark-skinned and I strongly prefer light-skinned girls. Her face is otherwise kind of cute though, so she certainly passes when it comes to having sex. I wouldn’t date her though. Besides, I hate her personality.

That’s based on hearing her with her friends, laughing and yelling obnoxiously thru the surprisingly thin walls of this otherwise elegant dwelling place. The quieter reserved version I was talking with for the first time; we never spoke before and only saw each other that one time; was likable.

I don’t know how the landlord found out about her. I never told them and didn’t want her to think I did. I planned to let her know it wasn’t me and that I never even knew she was there illegally, but I never got around to it. I was too busy feeling the vibes, translating the body language.

The way she kept looking at me, I could tell, at least I strongly suspected, she wanted to fuck me as bad as I wanted to fuck her. Maybe I downplayed my attraction to her. I still wouldn’t date her, but what better way to end the summer than to dick her in my summer home just before departing?

I wouldn’t have to see her again, at least not until next summer if I decided to rent there again, which would prevent our new relationship from developing into something romantic. It would also prevent her from getting too comfortable and inviting her friends back. That’s what I call a win-win.

2024 [ February 17 ]