Tuesday, October 20th, 2020

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How did I used to get up in the morning? Or maybe, why did I use to get up in the morning? Well, usually it was to secure a place at the local coffee shop before all the laptops arrived to hog tables, and now even though the coffee shop now has patio seating I can't have pastries and lattes so when I wake up at a reasonable hour, I just go back to sleep again. I mean yes, part of it is that I don't hurt in bed, mostly, whereas if I get up I *will* hurt because I do get up to limp to the bathroom. But after limping back to the bedoom, instead of stretch and strengthen for half an hour, I pull up the heavy comforter and blanket and roll back to sleep...

...to dream I'm sort of back in the house I owned, most unhappily, in 1987 trying to get my new laptop to work and suddenly it's 4:25 oh lord is that the time? Cathy O'Neill's birthday party will be almost over!' (friend from grade school through first year university). My mother tells me to get my clothes on- 'but I forgot to buy a present!' so she hands me a stack of hand towels she bought, no time to wrap them, and my hair looks like Nancy's of Sluggo and Nancy but I can't brush it out now, and I get my purse (I don't use purses and never did: it was shoulder bags before backpacks) and Mom drives me to Cathy's as people are leaving. I know that second waking dreams are always anxiety ones, but I still prefer that to being awake for an extra three hours.

Earlier night dream was a variant on the old murder topos, where I'd stabbed but not killed my workplace nemesis and was lying low but I had to go out and walk along a street where she might see me and did, so I took shelter with a Chinese family in some ur-Torontonian-Chinatown.

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