Don't Expect Much, Darlings in Book Six: Trying to Hold On 2019

Today is… an odd day.

I woke up from a fascinating dream that I will share at the very end of this (as hearing people’s dreams can be a bit boring) and I noticed it was 4:50 a.m. And I was rather randy. I give considerable thought to getting out of bed to deal with the matter, but ultimately decided that sleep would be preferred. I went back to sleep and woke for my alarm at 6:30. Hit the snooze button than set the alarm for 7:15. Because.... tired. But Wife had gotten up to go to the bathroom, so she started poking me telling me to get up so I wouldn’t be late for work. Fine. Still tired!

Work will be… interesting. I have 1 sentencing this morning and then the entire office goes to a funeral. This is the second Prosecution Job I’ve ever had… the third Attorney Job I’ve ever had… and this is my second “Spouse of co-worker” funeral. But that’s Iowa Law for you. It is an aged business. Especially in Government Law. Loads of people go private to get paid then they go to Government Law in their old age to get better insurance options. Not me. I started in Government because I don’t want to sacrifice 180% of my life for a six figure pay check. I’d rather do my job, have a life, and keep chugging for 5 figures. Maybe I’m the crazy one.

After the funeral, I come back to the office in an attempt to prepare for
(1) Wednesday’s Pretrial Conferences
(2) Thursday’s Bench Trial
(3) My Jury Trial next week (!!!!!!!!!!!!)

There is a lot to do for my jury trial next week!!!!

After work today is a workout day. I’ll try to lift some weights, do some running. Likely won’t be home before 7:30… which is why Wife and I go to the gym together. After that? Jeopardy and NCIS before going right back to bed. le sigh

Maybe tomorrow afternoon will give me some time to just… do other stuff. Like call my parents and/or brother. Or write privately. Or play video games. Who knows?

EDIT

HA! Thinking too much about work, I forgot to add my dream here.

So, something to note… I have shitloads of recurring dreams about High School.... but is is always the High School I attended… which no longer exists. A few years after I left, they tore it down and rebuilt the entire thing to be larger, newer, and more high tech. And yet… every dream I have is basically my old high school with my old teachers and (despite my present education) I’m required to take additional high school courses. NOT THIS TIME.

This time I was in my brother’s Letterman’s Jacket visiting the school to drop something off. I wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, but I knew it was important and I knew it had to go to the Orchestra Room. I pulled into the parking lot, which was covered in snow and ice, and pulled up to a spot close to the building, right next to a handicapped spot. I grabbed the piece of paper I needed and walked into the school.

The school had not opened yet, it was still the pre-7:00 hour but there were loads of students milling about; waiting for their classes to open, so they could at least wait for the lesson to start inside the classroom. I felt eyes on me and looked down to see if it was something weird. I determined that the Letterman’s Jacket was on backwards, but no matter how many times I spun the jacket… it still seemed backwards, so instead I settled on finding the buttons and keeping that side “forward” no matter what the design looked like that way.

Looking at the various signs posted around the school, I came to realize that they no longer had an Art Wing, as they did when I attended. Instead, they had placed Choir and Drama on one side of the school, by the stage, and Band and Orchestra on the other side of the school, by the loading docks. I made my way to the Orchestra Area and had to wait for the classroom doors to open. Finally at 7:30, a blond woman in her mid to late 50s opened the door and was surprised to see me. She invited me into the classroom and I took a moment to marvel at how different the room looked. Gone was the unwelcoming concrete and stone that had marked the orchestra room of the past; this room had recording equipment and carpeted walls, and looked designed to minimize the noise heard outside while maximizing the quality of sound inside. It was well designed. The woman who opened the door asked my name and inquired as to why I was there. I introduced myself, stated my profession as Assistant County Attorney in another county, and explained that I hadn’t been back since the “Senger Days.” The woman introduced herself as the new Orchestra Teacher and laughed saying, “You have been gone a long time.” I walked around the room and placed the piece of paper I had brought with me in a student’s locker. Then from The Office area, Devorah Gellar (a bright violin player in my day) emerged. IRL, she had just finished defending her dissertation for her Doctorate in Rabbinical Theology so in the dream: I asked her about it. She claimed that she was nervous as hell and felt that the entire experience felt a lot more like a firing squad than an academic exercise. She confessed to flying back to DM from NY to clear her head and catch her breath.

I left the Orchestra Room and headed towards the library to check out the new two-level design. When I arrived, the school counselor saw me and violently jerked me into a small alcove with a table. She started lecturing me about “government over reach” and how I shouldn’t be making promises that I couldn’t keep. I was confused and demand that she explain herself. She produced a DHS Report from my county about one of her students stating that the DHS Worker understood that the child felt terrible fear about the parents but DHS hadn’t found anything sufficient to remove the child. I looked defiantly back at the Counselor and stated that if a child needed help it was BOTH of our jobs to lend aid. At that moment, a child no older than 8 appeared. (To protect my own anonymity, we’ll say my last name is Park). She started dancing up and down, singing my name “Mr. Park, Mr. Park, Mr. Park” then ran over to give me a great big hug and said, “You’re here to save me!!” So the counselor and I had to interview the little girl and I promised her that we would do everything we could but that I wasn’t there to save her yet. Merely to help provide her with the tools to save herself. The counselor and I walked this little girl back out of the library where suddenly…

One of my friends form Undergrad saw me. IRL, she and I graduated at the same time with our degrees in Religious Studies; but in this dream, she had been sent to complete High School. Apparently, she had not been allowed to receive her degree until she corrected the fact that she had “skipped Junior and Senior Year in High School”, so she was completing her Senior Year. She and I talked and walked to the center of the school; which had been converted into this gigantic beautiful atrium with plants and water fountains and places to relax… the place looked like it had been built to be some Ultimate Chill Area for stressed students. We sat and talked until it was time for me to walk back to my car. (THEN THINGS GET WEIRD!)

I walked back to my car to see that my vehicle was almost entirely covered with ice and snow. On the windshield was what looked like a ticket and on the side mirror was a door hanger. The ticket wasn’t really a ticket; it was a 1 Day Parking Pass. The door hanger was a note that said, “We ran the plates on this car and it is not a registered school vehicle. However, it came back as Non-Student so we have provided you a temporary parking pass.” I was relieved and started chipping ice and snow off the car. As I finished, I looked up at the school and noticed a teacher looking at me in such a way as to say, “I think I know him.” I waived to the teacher, who opened his window and… it was Hank Azaria. But this seemed normal… like he was just an old High School teacher, and I greeted him, “Hey, Mr. Azaria! Still teaching here?” He told me to wait for him and he closed his window and came down to talk to me. The two of us wound up taking a long walk away from the school and wound up at a hospital. Mr. Azaria said, “I live around here.” And he showed me to his place. I walked inside and he grabbed a suitcase. He said, “I have to leave on business but I’d love to catch up more. Would you house sit and we can talk when I come back?” I shrugged and said sure.

(THEN THINGS GET WEIRD BEYOND WORDS!)

After he left, I made a phone call and two other men showed up. Don’t know who they were, but apparently Dream Me was familiar with them. I kept saying how I felt bad for what we were doing and felt like I was being a horrible monster. The men laughed and said, “Becoming a monster is your choice. We’re just here to get the power!” At that, the three of us stripped nude, painted blue marks all over ourselves in some ancient druidic language, and trashed the place. Like… ripping furniture in half, setting fire to the books, really destroying the place.

(THEN THINGS GET ULTRA SUPER WEIRD BEYOND WORDS!)

The next morning, the three of us wake up. Except now there are 5 of us. Me, with my marks glowing blue. The two men I had called, and two women that I didn’t know and hadn’t seen enter. Suddenly, an extravagant looking, drop dead sexy woman walks in through the frotn door holding Mr. Azaria’s luggage. She shrieks and demands to know what is going on. One of the men tries to run, but accidentally runs into the woman and somehow that upsets the woman enough for her magics to drop slightly. The image doesn’t change, but I can tell that it is Mr. Azaria using some kind of powerful magic. My marks begin to glow even brighter before flashing causing a temporary blindness even to me. When our eyes adjust, I can sense that I am not in my body anymore. I’m somewhat floating over the staircase, an idealized version of myself… strong, confident, gorgeous, muscular.... still naked… well endowed. The Gorgeous Woman/Mr. Azaria is looking at me like a starved panther would look at a steak. She reaches out to the others, now assembled at the bottom of the stairs and I can see that it is the two men, the two women, and Me. Somehow regular me is still conscious and moving around; despite me being this idealized avatar floating around in corporeal form. AzariaWoman opened her palms and yellow swirling light coalesced in her hand and I could tell it was a fatal spell intended to kill those at the bottom of the stairs. I shouted for her to stop and she did. I instructed her not to kill the one that was me or the magics creating my presence would cease. At the very thought of that, the AzariaWoman shrieked in horror and dropped her hand. I nonchalantly said, “But feel free to kill the others. I really don’t care what happens to them.” I don’t know what she decided to do with them… but I woke up as she turned to me and began stripping; informing me of just how thrilled she was that I was going to fuck her.

THAT WAS THE DREAM

Fairly simple “Re-visiting High School” becomes “Magic Avatar Sex”. What?!

Last updated March 19, 2019