On October first, I have a dream in which I am in a vestibule leading to an apartment complex. Mailboxes are against one wall and a toilet on the other. I desperately need to piss and so I whip it out to go, but then people come in through the doors. I try to hide myself and am so pee shy I am unable to piss. To make matters worse, some guy is talking to me about how they just legalized pot.
In my dream on October 3 I walk into work and, having realized I forgot my work shirt — any shirt — I walk towards the office where the box if crew shirts are located. They aren’t the maintenance shirts, but they’re better than nothing. As I ran and snuck back there I am covering my chest with a towel or something, terrified of being seen.
In the dream on October 8th, I am sleeping over at my parents, it would seem, where I am in a small room by a computer, packing a bowl. Behind me, the door opens and my mother barges in. My back is to her and the door but when it opens and she enters I stand up, turn around and try to block her view of the weed. Later, while downstairs in the kitchen and with my father nearby, I try not to come across as an asshole as I ask her to please just knock next time. After all, I tell her, “my dick could have been out or something.”
In another scene, I’m out the side door of the fast food joint where I work, watching all the cars cruise through our parking lot. It seems as if there might be a car show nearby or something, as many if them are shiny new looking old cars. Then, in the midst of them, I catch two futuristic-looking vehicles. One of them looked remarkably like the death machines or war machines from my memories of the desert world. My fear rises. I wake up.