Home > Life or something like it > Entry 09/23/2007 11:18:28 PM – Mentat 357

Entry 09/23/2007 11:18:28 PM – Mentat 357

     …Free At Last, Free At Last Thank God Almighty I’m Free At Last…

     It’s rather sardonic of me to be using Martin Luther King’s quote about the civil rights movement in the sixties for something as trivial as getting the hell out of the contract I had been working.  But given the circumstances and my feelings on this, at the same time, it feels quite apropos to use it. 

     This week felt as though it had been the longest week in my life to have actually worked a contract.  Small wonder really, when you consider that it’s rare for me to work long-term contracts with people that are as incompetent as they are lacking any form of forethought.  But now that I’m out of there, it’s time for me to start the routine decompression that comes with working with the idiotic and the weak, and take a little of that somewhat "deserved" me-time I need in order to get my thoughts, feelings, and life in order before I start the schlepping around for a new contract. 
     Of course, the best part is that my cat’s going to be tickled pink given that she’ll have me around more than usual.  Which hopefully, whatever separation anxiety she’s been going through the last couple of weeks will finally abate.  God, let me tell you, she’s been positively annoying with her constantly being in my face when I’m sleeping.  Normally she’s more than happy being nearby, but for some reason, every time I roll over, she gets up, wanders about the head of the bed, so she can get into my face and sleep again.  At one point last week, I had actually slept on my back, and she mounted up onto my chest so she could be with me.  Nothing like having a face full of her fur because she wanted to ensure I knew she was there.  Hell, right now she’s gotten herself all comfortable on my lap, which is particularly difficult to deal with given that I don’t have the old sub-woofer under my desk that I could use as a leg-prop so she didn’t habitually feel like she was sliding off my lap.  (I’m going to have to get something as a substitution in the near future). 
     I talked with my aunt early last week, and I believe the reason why she’s been so needy has to do with the fact that it was about a year ago that I gotten ready to move to Pennsylvania and she had dealt with the move back then while she had been ill with some sort of blockage through the summer.  So I think she’s worked out in her mind that I’m going to be doing that again, and she doesn’t want anything to do with it.  At least the good thing out of all this is that she’s healthy and has finally lost much of the weight that she had gained while she was in the kennel in Pennsylvania. My aunt’s finally noticed it when she saw Cricket this morning.  She (Cricket) just has to lose a couple of more pounds before she’s back to a healthier weight.  

     One of the other reasons that had prompt me for writing this entry has to do with the fact that I’m back to dealing with the really vivid kinds of dreams I used to get when I was a day-walker.  Ugh, let me tell you — they’re annoying sometimes given the amount of information and amount of time that elapses in them.  *sighs*  And here I thought being a creature of the night would’ve saved me from continuing to have those kind of dreams.  No such luck apparently; as it took my body something like 5 months before it had adjusted and acclimated and my unconscious back to churning out the bizarre, surreal and oftentimes information intensive dreams that I used to have. 
     Take last night’s dream for example.  It’s the direct result of my chatting with this woman this morning in Kennedy Plaza that was originally from South Carolina (and have moved up here), who was in search of a church in Warwick that didn’t have such a "believe in Hell/Hellfire and brimstone" approach to Christianity.   In the dream I had returned to Atlanta after a long-time hiatus from the city and was giving a tour of it to someone that hadn’t been there before.  I remember distinctly reaching a part of the city that was like L5P (Little Five Points) and that I saw the bus terminal there, which I explained to the person that was driving, "this is the place I had first come to this city…" 
     Dramatically incorrect, let me tell you.  I had arrived in Atlanta by Amtrak on Peachtree, just north of the numbered streets of Downtown Atlanta.  When I had first seen L5P, I was reminded distinctly of the Goth and Punk kids that used to hang about (read: loiter) along Thayer Street on the East Side here, and that while I didn’t feel any connection to the hippy attitude of L5P, it gave me that co-joined feeling that comes from being able to relate to someplace that I remembered so vividly in my heart and my mind. 
     Anyway, there was another part of the dream where across the street, I was looking at a theater (not sure whether it was for plays, or movies) that I seem to recall having in another dream a long time ago (which sitting here, I vaguely remember only one incident from that dream).  I didn’t actually go into the Theater, but I did look at it within my dream long enough to recall the other dream that I had of it.  Yes!  I was recalling dreams within dreams, again!  Annoying really, given my brain works on that level of consistency oftentimes. 

     Oh!  And a movie that I recommend to folk that are into high (almost queenly) drama is Curse of the Golden Flower (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0473444/)  Oh my god!  It’s Shakespeare, come Passions, come Chinese tragedy.  In the first half-hour there’s so much conniving, depravity, perversion, and tragic set up; that it takes almost 1/2 hour to explain to the casual viewer (my aunt at one point) that she says to me, "Are you sure it’s not a soap opera?"  About the only thing that I found moderately disappointing was the fact that Emperor Ping (played by Chow Yun Fat) survives through it all.  But then anyone that’s familiar with Chinese story-telling knows that it’s rare for the Emperor to die in such films because it’s considered bad fortune, unless the man is so much a tyrant as to be a crime against China…  Emperor Ping is not a crime against China in this story — just a crime against the people he’s plotting to get rid of…  Which isn’t the same when you consider it. 

     Well, that’s about it for the time being.  I’m off to play a game or two, write a bit more, and of course give my cat the attention she apparently thinks I should be giving her (which seems to exceed the 100% that I’m used to giving her).  Until the next time.

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