I was just dreaming I was back in my house. butterflake, moriae, and poh were all living there, as indeed they do now. There was my stuff everywhere - piles of it hiding on shelves I didn't know we have, paintings still on the walls, and dust, dust bunnies, dirt and filth everywhere, all the remains of things I wasn't able to take care of while I was there, the things I wished were here but shadowdaddy hadn't packed for some reason, the things that fell into the cracks that I tried to take care of while I was there. I went through and through things and still I couldn't get stuff together. There were too many things and too much stuff and no matter how much I cleaned up nothing ever looked better. All I got together was one bag of books I didn't want anymore. I found some plants I was worried about because I didn't want them to die and somehow the "secret bathroom in the secret room in the basement" had been knocked out and turned into storage space.
Ugh. Everyone has stress dreams. Now I don't dream about exams at school, I'm dreaming about not being able to get packed before I left? Just how many days did I spend in the basement trying to go through all of my stuff anyway? I'm thinking back on my calendar and I'm pretty sure I was going at it non-stop from about the weekend after I came back (the 20th of July) until the day before I left (September 6th?). Gag. I can only imagine what shadowdaddy's dreams are like.
We enjoyed The Cryptogram last night, though the child actor made Mamet's lines grating to the ears. I'm getting tired of having sandwiches for dinner because that's all we can afford. Tonight, La Traviata with ergotia and lilithmagna, but for now I'm going to jump in the shower and see if the dust of 35 years of accumulated stuff can be washed off of my psyche with mere water.
(And happy lateish birthday to splendid_geryon, my favorite part about my last six months in Seattle.)