Flying Saucer Dream

I had a dream last night. Aliens had invaded and people were completely overwhelmed. Every time a treaty was going to be signed, there was a betrayal. The scenes I remember are as follows. I was in a large museum type of building. Lots of political officials had surrounded the president (He was sort of non-descript looking, and certainly did not look like the man in office today.) They were panicking in a sort of half-controlled manner, pleading with him to do one thing or another. The only choice that seemed clear to them was that the president should retreat to his underground bunker, which was accessed through the fake presidential oval office, which was in the theatre auditorium. Me and a handful of other tourists, naturally couldn't follow.

Just as he and his men and officials disappeared behind some stage props, the aliens marched into building from every side. They were menacing in their troop formations but they did not attack. Escape seemed impossible. Speaking in an incomprehensible manner, they pointed this way and that, before laughing and leaving behind a small white safe on a dolly. A smarter man among us, a professor of some kind, with his glasses askew on his face, realized it was a bomb. He lay over the bomb, frantically working at the combination before it exploded. Even though he died in the resulting explosion, his heroic act saved at least half of the people in the museum, including myself.

I rushed outside, only to see the havoc of flying saucers everywhere shooting laser beams at a panicking crowd. A police officer, helping to get people out of the back of a station wagon, was caught in the beam and turned into ash. I rushed around him into the street. And then I woke up.

A Good Enough Day

Today, I was wakened by the sound of dad shooting water into a metal barrel for the chickens to drink. I was groggy, and took about half and hour to become fully awake. However, for a change, I was glad I was up. I needed to be in Salem for the service I had planned on attending. I am not sure if it happens to most men my age and circumstance, but I find I need this sort of thing as a hope life line that my life has not completely gone off of the rails. Even if I am judged to be unsuccessful in my public life, at least I can try to be a good person in my personal life: develop virtue and all of that.

I was the last person in the building after it was over, and was politely ushered out. I hadn't realized that I was keeping the gentleman who was tasked with locking the building away from the rest of his day. I had been in the library selecting a book that I thought might help me get my daily life in order.

At this point, I drove downtown and after depositing my check for two weeks work, went looking for a place to take lunch. The exercise from walking was sorely needed, but I didn't find a suitable place. The new place did not have the menu items I wanted to eat, and the prices were too high. I figured that my best course of action was to eat lunch in a coffee shop, where I had the most delicious bagel sandwich and a hibiscus iced tea. I should have had it lightly sweetened, but as it was, it was a much better meal than I had hoped for. I considered working on personal projects, like organizing healthy meals for the week, but instead I watched videos on my laptop and glanced occasionally at the youthful, energetic people coming and going trying not to feel too envious. It is, admittedly, a bigger struggle than I would like. I could write essays of regret, but I am choosing not to indulge in too many negative reinforcements on my attitude. Like I said, it's a stuggle.

I had planned on going to the shop and working on my video projects, but the combination of the sun, food, and poor sleep made me feel very tired, so I drove home for a three hour nap. I didn't necessarily want to sleep for that long, but I think I needed it. I am developing a problem with my breathing while I sleep. I suspect sleep apnea, which means that I really need to get my health in control before I suffer greater consequences. I am working on it.

Night brought a trip to walmart (an accomplishment for me) so I could purchase some much needed sheets. I also bought cat food for the cat, and contemplated buying more junk food, but talked myself out of it. I met my biological father there. He's nearly completely deaf, so I listened and pantomimed responses that I hoped were understood, but I suspect weren't. I think he could probably use a hearing aid, but I don't think his pride will let him. I do not know how to feel about him, since I do not really know him very well. What I do know of his beliefs and opinions, I likely disagree, but I give him respect and attention. It seems right to do so. I then spent the rest of the evening at the shop watching videos, and playing video games. The one bright spot of accomplishment came with some figure sketching that I did. I want to keep up on my art as best as I am able. I am hoping it will help.

Now, I must leave for a trip to the grocery store to buy some breakfast items, and then I will watch a little TV at home before returning to bed. I think I did okay for this day doing some of the things that needed doing. Perhaps I could have worked on more necessary items more, and not indulged in too much distractions, but I am not going to call this a bad day. It was a good day. A stepping stone on the path of doing better.

Restlessly Worrying

One of these days I going to change the layout of this blog. It is not abandoned as much as it is neglected. I hope to write more and communicate more of what I am thinking with this silly thing, but tonight is not the the night. It seems that I need to have an outlet, even if it is online for to everyone to scrutinize. We'll see what the future holds with this thing.

Briefly, and with some specifics, I am up late. I do not sleep as well as I used to do. Thoughts about my youth tinged with melancholy occur more frequently than I would like. My future seems to be cramped because of my previous bad decisions combined with a growing awareness of my own limited opportunities. Part of me wishes I had made more of life by now, but another part of me sees I didn't have as much as a chance as I thought I did. I should have gotten my Master's Degree. One thing is excruciatingly true right now: it is 1:30 a.m., dark, and quiet. I need to go home and sleep, but feel anxious and restless. I'm avoiding doing it for some reason. I wish I had a clearer idea about what I wanted out of life, and where I want to take it from here, but all I know now is that, now, I need to stop writing. I will go home and sleep, but mostly because I don't know what else to do.