I don’t mind. I am a firm believer that the dream world is where I clean out my anxieties, or at least face them down for a while. It is also a place where creativity burbles, like swamp gas in mossy water.
To wit: The song I wrote for my band’s CD, Down at the Courthouse, was an original song written in my sleep. I woke up, the chord progression on the front of consciousness, but quickly receding. I ran in my pajamas to my piano and hunted for the chords, finding them - B flat, E flat, resolving to F, our old friends 1-4-5, blues from the crossroads. It was a good song, plucked from my subconscious one time.
In fact, it may be that there is a whole catalog of songs in there, each played once during REM sleep at 1:45 in the morning and then forgotten. Maybe that’s what distinguishes artists from the rest of us - they live inside their subconsciousnesses (great word), remembering everything.
Anyway, I woke up, fed the dogs, worked my puzzles and then off to basketball. My friend M was joining me in the game and I had to be on time to bring him into the gym. This is always a fraught moment, because you don’t know if the guy you bring in can actually play, or if his bad play is going to reflect on you.
He did fine and will become one of the Saturday regulars. We played seven games and he played with aplomb. He did look like he was about to have a heart attack at the end, but he shook it off and smiled, ready to come back again. Good.
Lunch was a ham sandwich and leftover sweet potatoes and beans. Dinner was a petit steak and chicken breast with salad at Texas Roadhouse with my wife and mother. Then some Rummikub and cards at home with my mother.
I do need to start working on improving my time management. I have a book to write and a speech to prepare for. Procrastination rules my life. That has to change.
But tomorrow is Supper Club at W’s house, Polish food night. I am bringing green beans!
I guess I will begin the change on Monday…
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