Dreamed I had taken Mom - still alive, obviously - at a strange, Asian-run grocery store. Somehow we got separated and I found myself in a back room where I discovered that someone, an illegal immigrant being used as a slave I think, had been caught trying to escape or blow the lid on a human trafficking operation. A tough little Asian guy shot the would-be escapee in the head - or did he stab him with a knife? - not realizing I was watching and that I had taken a photo. I managed to sneak away, but took no action: what if I reported what I saw, and there were negative repercussions for myself or Mom? Did I want Asian gangs coming after me?
I'm not sure if I stayed in the grocery store, to finish shopping, or went away and came back, but what I'd seen continued to prey on my mind. Then I saw that they had a milk crate full of records, and, as is my way in dreams, I lost myself looking through them. "Look, Mom, they have some North Korean heavy metal! I wonder what that sounds like?"
I continued to look through the records, forgetting about what I'd seen, almost.
There was another dream not long ago where my father was still alive and it was my mother who had died, and we were discussing what to do with her easy chair, which, in fact, was father's easy chair in life. (Both their easy chairs in fact ended up in possession of neighbours). Dad was sitting on the giant couch (also now in the possession of neighbours) that Mom and he brought out from - Ontario? Quebec? - when they relocated to BC in the 1950's. It was nice spending time with him, though I knew he was sad that Mom was gone.
Lots of dreams, lately, in fact. What was that REM song title, "I Don't Sleep, I Dream?" (Remember when REM was cool? I do). Sometimes it feels like I'm dreaming so hard it's interfering with my rest. Might be due to work stresses: I'm getting irregular hours, no guarantees of classes, as the school flounders due to trouble with our parent corporation. Classes proceed as usual, but there are fewer and fewer students; here we are at the peak season, and a bunch of us, employed full time last year, have lost all our guaranteed classes and have to scrounge for sub work.
One amusing aspect of all this is that I've had to subsidize my income by selling off chunks of my record collection - the stuff I've been owning for the sake of owning it, that I seldom actually want to listen to - and this Facebook friend of mine, Eric Damianos - I think he worked for the Straight at some point - keeps buying it and posting his "scores" on Facebook. I guess it's some comfort that I know my records are going to a good home, but I might as well just start selling to him directly!
Anyhow, that's about it for now. I should have an article coming out in the West Ender about shows this coming weekend. I might have something in the Straight, too, though there's no guarantee there.
I probably need to get my resume in order...
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