Dream 20021013, 10 AM:
This dream was long and complex, with lots of meta-lucidity and false awakening.
I started out in the Kingwood house, but now it belongs to Chris and me. I am sleeping in the blue bedroom, and Chris comes in and wakes me up. I tell him that I was just getting some good REM. Now, I feel grumpy and frustrated.
I get up and go into another room; I don’t remembe where or why. I think this is just a timeline skip in the dream. When I walk back into the room, I see that Chris has done something that raises the bed way up high; it seems like he’s combined two different platforms. It looks sturdy, but it seems like it would be able to fall off of. He says something about how they finally got the BDSL hooked up, and points to a thing by the wall where his computer desk is; it looks like a large power support thing, but apparently it has to do with the internet line. Then, I look around and Chris is not here; I look for him a little, then look out the front window (through the front door, or the living room?) and see a school bus and some other vehicles parked in the driveway. I shrug, and decide that Chris must have gone off somewhere, and I go back to bed.
I wake up with a panicky feeling because I feel like I have overslept for something. I get dressed, although I don’t remember dressing myself – and take off. I arrive at a building that reminds me of the Majestic, sort of, or some other old theater. There are a bunch of people here, and I think it has something to do with our Jazz Festival. I run around the inside of the building for a little while, and find a way that leads toward the stage; there is a man sitting down tuning a guitar and warming it up. He points, and says, “She’s over there.” I’m looking for Joanna.
I find her, and she’s backstage. She seems like she’s wearing something like a night gown; it seems odd. She starts asking me where I’ve been; I tell her that I didn’t remember that we had this scheduled. I say that I know I must have heard about it, but I really don’t remember even having the date written down for it. She asks me what I would have done without my special phone; I don’t understand this, and she says that my phone clock should have told me. I am still confused, and I tell her that I didn’t remember that I had to be here, I just had a sense of compulsion that I had to come here. I ask if this is a dry run for the concert, she says that it is. She is organizing things as she’s talking to me, and we’re walking up a series of large rounded steps. They are painted black, with blue swirls on them that remind me of Mucha. They’re shaped like the back of a Grand Piano in profile. They are not even; I noticed that about steps in the theater lobby too. I realize that I’m still wearing my Nova Dreamer pushed up on my head, and I sweep it off and stick it into my pocket. *end*