(5/18/05) little debbie's complaint; writing on the room

(Entered in paper journal at 5:30 AM at home in Harlem.)

Dream 1

I walked into a place that may have been a deli but  which looked like a mix between a closed down gas station and a cafeteria. At the end of a long serving counter sat a guy who looked like my college friend GJ. Beside him were display racks of Little Debbie snack cakes. I came in either to exchange or buy something.

"GJ," when he saw me, groaned (in a flat, American accent, unlike GJ's usual accent) about how awful it was that I was here again to waste his time by asking him to ring up food for me while he was busy trying to relax. I felt bad. I considered whether I would feel better if I bought something other than Little Debbie snack cakes.

Dream 2

I had roommates who didn't like me. We had to have some kind of writing in our rooms. I didn't have this writing, and I tried to get it, but my roommates played some antagonistic part against me. My room was filled with snow.

At some point I left and came back. My brother had put in all the "writing" I needed, which was like signs on the wall and "topographical" outlines marking the heights of the snow drifts in my room, which were all of various heights.

Now that I had the writing in my room I would be okay. I knew my roommates either had learned this or would learn it, and that it would make them angry. It was like they came into my room whenever I was away to make sure I wasn't doing anything they didn't like.

At some point I may have phone a friend, either for protection or to make sure something was right. In fact, the phone call may have been about my old Los Alamos Americorps boss, CA, and how we didn't work at the national park anymore.

(5/14/06) my roommate the black ghost; screenplay microorganisms; my boss's calendar

(Entered in paper journal at 10 AM at Ozzie's coffee shop on Garfield and 5th Avenue in Brooklyn.)

Dream 1

I was in the bathroom. I turned on the shower and heard one of my roommates walk out of his bedroom. I looked through the peephole in the bathroom door (?). I saw the roommate like a black ghost. He walked to my bedroom door. I heard a clicking or shoving. The roommate was trying to get into my room, but he couldn't. He walked back to his room.

Dream 2

I was at work. I received a manila envelope somehow as I was walking down the floor to meet someone. I didn't think about it at first. I mulled over the label and realized the sender, "ADM" (?), was a place I had submitted my screenplay to. I believe the sender's label may also have been in the recipient space.

I walked back to my desk to open the envelope. I thought, It will only take a second, and then I can get to my meeting. I walked over to my boss EB's office, perhaps to tell him about the response I had received. But when I walked to the corner with his office, the light outside his office went out. I took this to mean something bad, and I walked back to my desk. I figured if EB walked out of the office he would see me, but that he probably wasn't in his office. The place felt very busy, but I felt all alone.

I opened the package. Out spilled a typed copy of my screenplay, the notebook in which I had written my screenplay, and a slew of other papers of all sizes, from regular 8 1/2 x 11 to some hotel paper in dimensions like 6 x 9 to scraps and Post-it notes, with all different styles of writing.

I found a (handwritten?) letter which told me the screenplay had been reviewed by three different people, and their criticisms and comments were in the following bundles of papers. I believe the letter also said the screenplay had not been accepted.

I grabbed random papers. One said the screenplay was very good, that it flowed smoothly. Another few papers actually gave sketches for characters in my screenplay. They all looked weird like microorganisms. One was kind of like this.

I fumbled through the papers, trying to figure out why the people would put so much work into a rejection, down to sending me character sketches. I also waited for people in the office to walk past my desk so I could tell them about the response.

Dream 3

I sat at my coworker DE's desk, watching DE do something on the computer. Now he was on Outlook, showing me my boss BS's calendar.

DE said, "Look how much BS is going to be gone this month. That's why we have to XXXXX while he's here, to make sure everything is in good working order."

Looking at the calendar I couldn't see how DE thought BS was going to be gone so long.

Now BS walked down the floor past us without even noticing us. He stood in the corner by my desk. The floor where DE and I were was dim, like ceiling lights had gone out. But by my desk it was bright.

BS looked for me, then, not seeing me by my desk, said something like, "Where did that guy go now?" implying that I was lazy.

I stood up at that, a little annoyed to be thought of as lazy. I called for BS and raised my hand. BS saw me. I walked toward him, saying, "What did you need? I was just over here doing what you said DE and I had to do."

(10/4/08) zero-bedroom

(Entered in paper journal at 9:30 AM at Connecticut Muffin in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn.)

Dream #1

I was in "my apartment," which was enormous. It was a one bedroom, I told myself. But it had two gigantic rooms next to one another, and possibly two smaller rooms beside (or in front of) those two rooms. There might also have been another upstairs level. The two rooms were completely empty. It was daytime, and a dim light came in through all the windows.

I walked to my "one bedroom," which was at the end of one of the large rooms. This was a very small room with a bed and some clutter in it. As I stood in this room, I wondered how I could possibly have anybody else stay here, given how cluttered the place already was. And plus, I thought, this place is a one-bedroom. If somebody else comes here, it will be a zero-bedroom.