Change of venue

Although this year's 4th of July wasn't as noisy as it could have been - there are always a few in my neighborhood setting off noisy projectiles at 2:30 am - I still never got to sleep until around 4:30 a.m. I think I inadvertently over-caffeinated myself during the afternoon, having imbibed several glasses of the half-lemonade, half-tea beverage I like so much (see below).

Anyway, I dreamed that although I still lived in beautiful East Dallas, my Getalife job was in downtown Hong Kong. I set out late for work in the dream, but it's pouring with rain and I can't even remember the address of my office. I'm progressively worried that I'll get it in the neck from P.D.* as soon as I arrive.

Finally I remember the office address, but then I can't find the street. I trudge through the rain for hours. I consider getting a taxi, but then realize I don't have my handbag. All I have is my cell phone.

One particularly odd part of the dream is that I dial my own real-life office number, convinced it will connect me to David, my first husband. But nobody answers.

Getting progressively soggier, I wander into a hotel cafe, where a not unattractive man engages me in conversation. He seems to be totally unaffected by the fact that I'm dripping wet and can't find my own workplace. He suggests I order coffee, but I point out that I don't have any money with me. But instead of offering to buy me coffee, he confesses that his wife has such an iron grip on the marital finances that he can't buy the coffee, or his wife will realize what he's done. He then describes his wife as a "real terror". NB: If I heard this type of remark in real life, I'd run like a rabbit. Men who run down their wives in the middle of a chat-up are to be avoided.

Eventually I insist I have to go find my work, and he gives me some directions to the street. On the way out, he tries to kiss me. I dodge the kiss but accept his phone number.

I never make it to work.

* P.D. = Poison Dwarf. See character key at right.