(Entered in paper journal at 8:45 AM at Starbucks at Astor Place in Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I was down in a basement with my co-worker NN. The basement was like a stage, or perhaps like a workshop under the stage of a theater. We were preparing for something like a feast or a ritual.
I had long, thin, green tube before me. The tubes were like bean pods, but maybe three inches long. They were slightly hairy. I thought of them as something like ears of corn, which I had to shuck. I didn't know how to do this, so I asked NN, who stood about fifteen feet to my left. NN was also working on some of these pods.
To NN's right were some boxes or shelves and a tall, cardboard box, rectangular vertically and square horizontally, which was lined on the outside with white paper and divided into a number of sections (possibly three -- two squares on the right side and one rectangle on the left).
NN showed me one of the pods. She snapped it open maybe one third of the way from the top. There were apparently three kinds of material inside -- all stringy, to some degree.
One material, the kind we were most interested in keeping, was on the very outside of the pod. It was very silky, but was also very slimy, and the hardest to hold onto without breaking. The second kind, nearer to the center, was like boiled pasta, a little mottled, the strings mostly yellow, though some were orange. And in the very center was a stringy material like dry, unboiled pasta.
NN explained what pile she put the string into. There was a lot of detail or explanation in this. Then NN might have told me about the box she used, and how it made things easier for her. She asked me if I understood everything now. I said yes.
I walked back to my area. I didn't understand everything, and I didn't exactly feel comfortable with what I was doing. I hesitated in starting. I thought I'd call to NN and ask her if she had, or knew where I could get, one of the boxes she used for storing the strings. But I felt ashamed to ask a question after NN had explained everything.
Dream #2
At first I was in an office building. Then I was out in the walkway before the building, like the building was in a business park. I lay in some small, rolling mounds of lawn, between two small pine trees.
People walked out of the building by two doorways: one just "behind" me (or beyond my head as I lay on the ground), the other just "before" me (or just beyond my feet). The people exiting before me crossed a small, wooden bridge over the small mounds of lawn. There might have been something like a chain link fence around the small lawn area.
I recognized a lot of people as workers or former workers at the job from which I'd recently been laid off. I thought out the name of each person as he or she passed. In particular I remember (after waking) my co-worker SC.
Now a group of people who looked like my old friend R's friend CS walked over the bridge. I thought one of them must be CS. I didn't want CS to recognize me and tell R that he'd seen me. I lay low, hoping to melt out of sight.
But CS saw me. He stood over me and spoke to me, asking me how I'd been doing, then asking if I'd seen R. CS And I were now standing inside some place like a hotel restaurant or hotel lobby. We stood in a small space of room that had white walls and natural light. A bar or concierge counter stood a way off in front of us.
We stood before a tall, square, dark wood table. CS told me, "You know what you really need to do? Is tell R, 'I am sorry for being an ass.' Because he is really hurt."
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