So anyway...this apartment has been out of my life for 10 years, but I keep going back in my dream to retrieve items: pillows, rolled up posters, pots and pans, towels left in the hall closet. All the debris that dogs you after moving out of some place.
This time, I'm running up and down the exterior stairs with my booty (that would be goods, not body parts) clutched to my bosom. That would be my naked bosom. Why I am topless, goddess only knows, but I am. There is a woman walking her retriever and she pretends not to notice my nakedness, bless her.
I'm trying to get this done quickly, for fear that the manager will find me and hit me up for 10 years of back rent. My (new, wonderful) wife is helping me and I just know she is dumbfounded as to how I could be so irresponsible.
I wake up sweating, confused, and utterly relieved that I am in my real house, with my real wife, my real things about me. I am also appropriately attired in t-shirt and shorts.
Whew.
post script: yes, I am aware of the other, more important Dream. What a strange day to post on my dream--is that my subconscious at work, or what?
