Dream of:19 December 2010 "Intensifying Disorder"
I was on the second floor of the Gay Street House where I was thinking of staying for a while. At the same time, I contemplated going to the Gallia County Farm and perhaps spending a week on the Farm. I might even go back and forth from the Farm to Gay Street, staying at each place for a week at a time.
Both my father and my mother were living in the Gay Street House and I was staying in the large bedroom on the south side of the second floor, the same bedroom I had used when I had been a teenager living in the House. I had dumped out a drawer-full of miscellaneous junk on to the floor and I was looking through the junk, sorting out things which I wanted to keep from things which I needed to throw away, when my father walked into the room. He said breakfast was ready and I got ready to go downstairs and eat.
I was feeling really good. As I headed down the stairs, I began thinking that I needed a job because I had spent all my money. I thought I might start painting, something I had previously done. I thought I was a pretty good painter. I could save my money, work my way up, and perhaps buy a house.
I wished I had something to take which would really make me feel good. I thought perhaps I could buy some marijuana. I thought I knew someone who had some pot. Upon further reflection, however, I didn't think I wanted any pot. If I smoked, I would simply look around and see what disorder I was living in. Plus, the pot would simply intensify the disorder. Smoking pot, therefore, was probably not a good idea. In fact, I thought, pot was probably part of the problem, not the solution.
When I reached the kitchen downstairs, my father and mother (both around 40 years old) were in the room. Both seemed in pleasant spirits. I sat down at the kitchen table. I was ready to eat. My mother had already put biscuits and gravy on my plate. I wondered if she had also made eggs.
I heard the television come on. It was sitting up on some kind of contraption in the corner so I couldn't even see the screen. I commented to my father that the television wasn't in a very good spot. He looked as if he were going to stand up and fix it, but I told him not to worry about it, especially since it sounded as if some kind of ball game was coming on, and I didn't care about ball games anyway.
I saw a pan on the stove, and I wondered if any eggs were in it. I didn't want to ask for eggs, just in case my mother hadn't made any - I didn't want to make her feel bad. So I got ready to simply eat my biscuits and gravy.
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