I've woken up early, with "Don't Rain On My Parade" playing in my head and the remains of a convoluted dream. I'm going to guess that writing last night and the clips of "Glee" Mark was watching last night are the cause.
The dream started out as a musical set in a diner on top of a really tall tower. Thinking back, the diner started out as a gas stop from earlier in the dream. I was trying to pay for a fountain Pepsi, which involved standing in a line to feed a dollar bill into a machine's slot, moving down a bit in a line (the dream was apparently pre-COVID, because there was no mask anxiety), and then retreaving a large, soda-filled paper cup from a dispenser. There was something about a receipt and a missing customer's food.
I wandered around the gas stop's kitchen, and the diner somehow transformed to being a tower-top dinner theatre. I'm not sure what the play was; probably "Anything Goes" meets "Guys and Dolls" because everyone seemed to have New York accents and I was dressed in 1920's era clothing. The dream turned into a typical, "the play's started and I'm not quite remembering my lines" dream, and then a small light blew out or something, and the other actor in the opening scene had to deal with with it, and said, "Mr. Burridge, come over here." The orchestra vamped. I looked around the dinner theatre, knowing that my folks were in the audience somewhere, and that I was going to have to make something up. So I started to improvise a song. "Follow the candle," was a repeated phrase, and in the dream I was desperately trying to rhyme a particularly difficult word that I can't recall waking (writing this it's harder not to come up with rhymes). I picked up a lit red taper from someone's table and paraded back and forth on the stage, singing "Follow the candle," to what in waking life I'm recognizing as "Follow the Fold," from "Guys and Dolls."
The song concluded, and the dream shifted from a dinner theatre show to a sci-fi adventure set in a old diner atop a really tall tower. The diner transformed from a 40's New York style metallic diner to (I think) an Asian Fusion restaurant. Or possibly an Asian couple's apartment. Deep beneath the base of the tower, there was some kind of mystic energy source, like a ball of lightning ten feet across or something. I have a image of a thermometer representing the tower, and the energy ball at the base is like a mercury reservoir. We were supposed to raise the energy up to the top of the tower, I'm not sure why, it was one of those "we have to do this" dream things.
There was something about a new owner of the tower being bad... and using the air conditioning units as a gateway for a cyber attack. And the Asian wife being mad at the husband for something (like buying an RV or selling the silverwear or a similar sit-com dilemma) and chasing him in a spherical capsule up the tower while he ran up the stairs. Oh, and there was a toddler having a tantrum because she wanted her diaper changed, and she had climbed on the outside railing at the top of the tower to do so. But the whole dream ended in the living room, where a tapestry rolled up like a curtain to show a screen with three other towers trying to contact us (or else the tapestry was like a TV screen). "We'll send you aid," they said. Their images on the tapestry became more blocky, like they were on a quilt made of squares and right triangles. "Look for that which is there and not there," they said, and then faded from view. (In waking life I took this to mean a feeling, like love, or a sense of family or community -- something there, but intangible).
The thick cloud cover that hid the sky when I first woke up has cleared. The waning crescent moon is near Spica, which I mistook for Mars for a second. Venus is low on the horizon, shining through a rent in the clouds. It's two outstretched hands away from the Moon, so Friday morning will the morning for a conjunction. If the clouds allow.
Yesterday afternoon, some roofing contractor rang our doorbell (I had hoped it was a package delivery) and started his rambly, "this isn't a sales pitch" sales pitch (after retreating to the bottom of the porch stairs). I thought he was only going to ask a few quick questions, but I finally stopped him after what I'm thinking was about a minute or two and said, "I'm going to go inside now, because I'm really uncomfortable that you're not wearing a mask."
Mark and I couldn't believe it, considering he was polling the neighborhood asking folks how old their roofs were.
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