Every Day Above Ground (mallorys_camera) wrote,
Every Day Above Ground

Dream of the Cats Plus Taking the Edge Off

Dreamed I was checking on the cats in an apartment I had moved out of. And there were a lot of cats! Like hundreds of them! And I knew them all by name or at least by disposition, and I was frantically setting up feeding stations. Was Ben with me? I think he may have been; he was giving me instructions, which for the most part, I was ignoring.

I’d had to use the most curious key to get into this apartment. It was shaped like a series of large, standing ovals and I didn’t see how you could possibly fit it through a keyhole. Except then I realized, you had to do something to the keyhole. You had to make the keyhole change—which somehow, I had managed to do. (Go, dream me!)

I was looking for Rutger among the cats, but I wasn’t seeing him. “Right,” said Ben. “He’s in the apartment upstairs.”

So there were two apartments filled with cats! If I looked up at the ceiling, I could see the apartment upstairs, and I wanted to get there, find Rutger, feed Rutger, maybe even smuggle Rutger out—if that was possible.

Then I remembered, Wait! I have to put down litter boxes for the cats downstairs!

So, I decided to give Ben some money and send him to the store to buy litter boxes.

Even as I was giving him the money, I thought, This is a mistake! He will steal the money and then he will return with some absolutely plausible story about how the money disappeared, how it wasn’t his fault that the money disappeared.

I didn’t know what to do. Because I couldn’t leave the apartments with all the cats so long as there was a chance Rutger was still trapped there.


I decided to experiment!

I got very, very stoned yesterday morning.

I don’t actually like getting stoned all that much. Marijuana is not my head trip of choice by a long shot.

But I’ve sworn off drinking again: It would be just too easy to spend the remainder of my life in a drunken stupor. And even though there’s not much of an edge to my life right now—in fact, you could say that’s the problem with my life: no edge!—I keep thinking, You need to take the edge off!

Anyway, the experiment was not a success.

Didn’t really hamper my productivity very much. I did everything I needed to do.

But I did it all with this weird feeling of self-consciousness: This is me making the decision to do everything I need to do! And now, I am propelling my fat ass out of this comfortable desk chair—

Kind of like some insane inner Edward R. Murrow soliloquy.

And also, it made me vaguely queasy, which naturally I obsessed over since isn’t queasiness a symptom in 0.5% of all covid-19 infections?????

I had covid-19!

And it was only a matter of time before I developed all those other unpleasant symptoms!

The Small Still Voice of Reason counseled, You don’t have covid-19.

And the two voices began arguing inside my head.

Which was quite unpleasant.


I continued reading The Lola Quartet.

It’s not a very good book.

And that made me happy because it helped me realize that even if your third novel is not very good, your fourth novel may be magnificent.
Tags: ben, books, covid-19, dreams, emily st john mandel, rutger
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