I am having a hard time getting out of bed today, partly due to energy levels and partly because the fiberglass of the cast is stuck to my sheets. And I want a pain au chocolat from Tartine, but I think it would take so long to get there that I'd be very late for work. This is (very) mildly depressing, but it's enough to trick me into thinking that only the power of chocolate and croissant can get me going today. (I'm good at coming up with excuses.)
Last night I dreamed that I was in Chicago, but the El tracks looked more like the above-ground stops in Queens. I bought an enormous recipe book that was as tall as I was. I also bought some gifts for the Jayce as a "thanks for letting me crash here" gesture, but when I left the store, I somehow left with many more items than I'd paid for — thousands of dollars of off-white rarities. There was a performance of some sort and my family was there. Scott was tinkering on some project in a concrete-walled room without a ceiling, and he missed it. I gave the giant recipe book to Betty, who loved it. But it was't Betty, it was a more prim and monied version of her, and it wasn't quiet right. I tried to draw a map of Wicker Park for some middle-aged women, but I forgot where Wabansia went, and I couldn't draw Milwaukee at the proper angle. Ivo brought me a sandwich and said it would be OK, but he stuck me with the bill. I woke with this song's line about dreaming in my head:
Annnnd now I really need to peel myself out of bed and make the BEAUTY MAGIC happen. Yesterday my job involved wearing black lipstick on camera. I don't know why I volunteered to do that, but I should look amusingly foolish.
Last night I dreamed that I was in Chicago, but the El tracks looked more like the above-ground stops in Queens. I bought an enormous recipe book that was as tall as I was. I also bought some gifts for the Jayce as a "thanks for letting me crash here" gesture, but when I left the store, I somehow left with many more items than I'd paid for — thousands of dollars of off-white rarities. There was a performance of some sort and my family was there. Scott was tinkering on some project in a concrete-walled room without a ceiling, and he missed it. I gave the giant recipe book to Betty, who loved it. But it was't Betty, it was a more prim and monied version of her, and it wasn't quiet right. I tried to draw a map of Wicker Park for some middle-aged women, but I forgot where Wabansia went, and I couldn't draw Milwaukee at the proper angle. Ivo brought me a sandwich and said it would be OK, but he stuck me with the bill. I woke with this song's line about dreaming in my head:
Annnnd now I really need to peel myself out of bed and make the BEAUTY MAGIC happen. Yesterday my job involved wearing black lipstick on camera. I don't know why I volunteered to do that, but I should look amusingly foolish.
Labels: deerhunter, sleep
