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Fever Dreams
Aug. 25th, 2008 01:04 pmMaybe the tea and the sleep really wasn't enough.
It's an upper respiratory infection. Mild, but enough to keep me down for at least today.
I called my boss' voicemail and the office manager's voicemail at 6:30. Collapsed back into bed and had violent feverish dreams.
In one dream, I was wandering through what looked like those carnival houses -- house of horrors, house of mirrors, etc. Seemed to be a lot of carnival houses combined into one. In one room, there was a giant bathroom scale on the floor. It glowed neon green, it glowed dark red numbers, it glowed bright white base. I stepped onto it and found myself reading an incomparably huge number; I ran into another room where the mirrors distorted my body to insane proportions.
I should step back and mention that every fever dream I have ever had has involved my body being horribly twisted, bloated, and distorted.
Another dream involved me being in my bedroom with a young woman in a costume. She wore a purple iridescent catsuit and a satin navy blue harlequin mask. We were discussing sex, and she kept telling me that if I wanted to go first, I could lose my inhibitions. She began to slide out of the catsuit, and the dream shifted into a different story. I was flipping the pages of a thick magazine, featuring unique models and their stories. I was one of the models. The writers praised my intelligence and knowledge of natural treatments, my physical beauty and little quirks about me. The model on the page before mine was a nude acrobat covered in magnificent tattoos, who liked to show off the tattoo on her mons pubis. The model on the page after me was an elderly woman with silver hair down to her knees, who barely had any wrinkles and who talked to nature.
I woke up at 12:30 and staggered downstairs in my pajamas. I made myself a bowl of Kashi GoLean Honey Cinnamon Hot Cereral oatmeal. Drank my acai blueberry juice. Wrote this entry.
Going to work on the book for a bit. The fever broke a couple of hours ago. Now I just feel sore and tired and congested.
It's an upper respiratory infection. Mild, but enough to keep me down for at least today.
I called my boss' voicemail and the office manager's voicemail at 6:30. Collapsed back into bed and had violent feverish dreams.
In one dream, I was wandering through what looked like those carnival houses -- house of horrors, house of mirrors, etc. Seemed to be a lot of carnival houses combined into one. In one room, there was a giant bathroom scale on the floor. It glowed neon green, it glowed dark red numbers, it glowed bright white base. I stepped onto it and found myself reading an incomparably huge number; I ran into another room where the mirrors distorted my body to insane proportions.
I should step back and mention that every fever dream I have ever had has involved my body being horribly twisted, bloated, and distorted.
Another dream involved me being in my bedroom with a young woman in a costume. She wore a purple iridescent catsuit and a satin navy blue harlequin mask. We were discussing sex, and she kept telling me that if I wanted to go first, I could lose my inhibitions. She began to slide out of the catsuit, and the dream shifted into a different story. I was flipping the pages of a thick magazine, featuring unique models and their stories. I was one of the models. The writers praised my intelligence and knowledge of natural treatments, my physical beauty and little quirks about me. The model on the page before mine was a nude acrobat covered in magnificent tattoos, who liked to show off the tattoo on her mons pubis. The model on the page after me was an elderly woman with silver hair down to her knees, who barely had any wrinkles and who talked to nature.
I woke up at 12:30 and staggered downstairs in my pajamas. I made myself a bowl of Kashi GoLean Honey Cinnamon Hot Cereral oatmeal. Drank my acai blueberry juice. Wrote this entry.
Going to work on the book for a bit. The fever broke a couple of hours ago. Now I just feel sore and tired and congested.
