Cars and Cats
Jul. 21st, 2011 10:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cremainsLately I've been going to sleep incredibly early and have been completely blacked out the whole night - no dreams that I remember. Last night, at first I dreamed this:
I was the chauffeur of my rosh yeshiva's wife, but I wasn't allowed to sit in the driver's seat. I had to sit across and behind and somehow reach my arms over to turn the wheel and press with my fingers on the gas. My arms would stretch enough to do this, but it was nervewracking to try to see oncoming traffic, or even the road around me. She didn't seem to think that anything was wrong, and chatted merrily.
Then I woke up starving, ate chocolate, and went back to bed with much more freakish and fitful dreams.
In the waking dream, I was starring in the musical "Cats" as the cat who gets regularly and savagely beaten by her father. (Obviously I have never seen this musical.) At the end of the play the abused cat goes insane and kills her father with a knife. In order to effect this transformation of personality, I had to go backstage, which was a basement designed by Eddie Izzard, who was not a comedian but a haute fashion designer. He was obsessed with sharkskin, and had pasted it all over the walls. For my character, I had to put in contact lenses made of sharkskin; they hurt my eyes horribly. Then I came back onstage and murdered my cat father.
I was the chauffeur of my rosh yeshiva's wife, but I wasn't allowed to sit in the driver's seat. I had to sit across and behind and somehow reach my arms over to turn the wheel and press with my fingers on the gas. My arms would stretch enough to do this, but it was nervewracking to try to see oncoming traffic, or even the road around me. She didn't seem to think that anything was wrong, and chatted merrily.
Then I woke up starving, ate chocolate, and went back to bed with much more freakish and fitful dreams.
In the waking dream, I was starring in the musical "Cats" as the cat who gets regularly and savagely beaten by her father. (Obviously I have never seen this musical.) At the end of the play the abused cat goes insane and kills her father with a knife. In order to effect this transformation of personality, I had to go backstage, which was a basement designed by Eddie Izzard, who was not a comedian but a haute fashion designer. He was obsessed with sharkskin, and had pasted it all over the walls. For my character, I had to put in contact lenses made of sharkskin; they hurt my eyes horribly. Then I came back onstage and murdered my cat father.
