Long, complicated dream about my own impending death last night. In the manner of dreams, I have lost much of it already after waking, but the last bit remains.
I was preparing to leave this world, but for some reason I was dressed in motorcycle armor, and my death was a quest from which I would not return. I was wandering around trying to say good-bye to people I cared about, having just escaped some now-lost-to-memory threat earlier in the dream, when I realized that @jackwilliambell was following me with a pistol in his hand.
Confronting Jack, I told him to either go ahead and shoot me, or help me out. He decided to help me.
We were trying to get into the campus of a high school endowed by the late Dave Thomas, founder of Wendy’s. I had a bag of fish-shaped cookies I wanted to give to someone, anyone, I knew to pass on as my farewell offering to my circle of friends. But Jack and I couldn’t find our way to the front gates. Eventually we climbed some fences before trying to blend in with the student population.
I finally found @MartiMcKenna wandering around campus with some large, hunky young dude she was totally in to. I could barely get her to pay attention to me, but I finally got here to accept my fish cookies. Which her hunky dude promptly started eating.
Somewhere in there I woke up.
As usual, I don’t have much problem deconstructing my dreams. I went to boarding school when I was a kid. Dave Thomas supported adoption causes, and
But weird and sad and amusing all at the same time. As with much of the rest of my life.