I was in some place where I could pay $10 to have a store. It was just a little space, but it was really cheap. So I was going to make and sell my own jam. There were two competing "co-ops" where you could pay your $10, both at the same place. I was standing around for a little bit, trying to figure out which one to go to. I was looking for someone who looked like they might be in charge. I noticed that some of the spaces had no people by them but they did have stuff, so I knew those were already taken. Finally, I found a spot with no stuff in front of it, then I went over to a main desk place where this woman helped me. I can't remember if she took my $10 or not. Then she took me to this room where she grabbed a glob of fruit, some lemon juice or something, then a handful of Gummi Bears. It was then that I realized she was making sure I knew how to make jam. It was a little odd, since not everyone made jam, and I didn't tell her what I'd be selling, but she somehow knew anyway. So, those represent the three things you need to make jam: cooked fruit, acid, and, I guess pectin. Of course, the real third thing you need is sugar, not pectin. You usually need pectin, but you always need sugar. (Of course, this got me thinking about making jam with Gummi Bears suspended in it.) So, then I was wandering around, and it seems I got the idea that the $10 was just for the storage space downstairs. You were still expected to rent a store in the mall upstairs, which was a lot more expensive. I didn't have time to worry about that, though, since the dream started changing. There was something with being in a room, like a dorm room, and it was one I was going to be living in and other people were in as well, and something about locking it or the door or something. And then I went to some indoor cinder track, and I started running around it. There was someone in front of me, some official groundskeeper person. S/he was running, but at a slightly slower pace than I wanted. I waited for some sort of official announcement to be over, and then I politely moved around the person and got up some speed.
A cop got on at Downton Crossing;
He was the last person on the train.
I noticed his flashlight and his T cop badge
And then I noticed his gun at his side.
The T cop had a gun at his side.
It was the side next to me, and the train was crowded
So the T cop's gun was poking me in the arm.
Umm, not sure where that is going. I really need to learn music so I can write the music that comes into my head when I write these lyrics.
I went to sleep at 11 last night, sucked into watching the last, emotional bit of Armageddon on TV. Woke up to the rain coming down hard outside my open window. I got up and shut hrafn's window, then shut the bathroom window, then closed my own window most of the way. That was 1:00. I usually don't wake up until later. So, back to sleep. Awake again at 4:30, then again at 6:30. Out of bed at 6:35. I want to try to get to bed earlier tonight so I naturally wake up around 6 or so tomorrow. That'll give me some time to be in here long enough to do some really good prep for my 10:00 meeting. But, we'll see. I'm going to be staying later at work tomorrow, anyway, since my first Hebrew class is at 6 in Brookline, and I'm not going to go home first and then go back out. I didn't have time to pack lunch today, so I'm going ta have to make sure I have enough time to pack lunch tomorrow and also something for dinner, since I really don't want to be spending the money to eat out. I almost forgot to feed the birds this morning. I'm not sure I should have kids, seeing as I don't like the idea of having to remember to take care of the birds. Of course, the birds didn't come from me, and the birds are never going to be able to talk to me intelligently. They squawk and the bite, and that's about it.
Okay, so I guess I'm in a low mood. I forget the name of the condition that I've self-diagnosed, but it's similiar to depression, except that it only comes on occasionally, like maybe a day or two once every month or two or something. I'm catching this pretty early, which is good. If I can recognize that I'm being affected this way, I can usually compensate for it pretty well, usually by warning people and keeping myself away from people. I can usually tell because small things bother me more than they normally would. It's like how I usually get sick: I don't get sick enough to warrant a hospital visit or even staying home from work, but I get sick enough for it to be annoying.
I sense a relatively unproductive day. I have one thing to do, but it would probably take me two hours if I sat down and just did it without interruptions. We'll see how long I can make it last.