Posted by: normanlgreen | August 10, 2011

Dream, August 10, 2011

Dream, home, 5:55 am

I have disassembled a large laser printer that normally prints onto paper fed from 36inch wide rolls. By the look of things, this one may never work again. The housing of the machine is a bleached-out gun metal blue and three out of four sided lay flat on the floor. To finish up the last job that it is likely to print, I stitch a stack of drawings along one edge using long staples. These protrude out the back of the stack with dangerous long barbs. Bending them with pliers still leaves them as a hazard. I nip the ends with a pair of wire cutters as a woman, Cindy, comes up to ask me to order rolls of blue paper so I can print a job for her. I guess that I will have to get the machine put back together.

My father is upset because I gave him some news he did not want to hear.  He has gone off to process his feelings.

Upstairs, the rooms have become, over time, completely disordered – nothing can be found in the accumulation. One man volunteers to get it all in order. He volunteers me and another to help him. Each of us works one of the three rooms.  I can see through open doorways that as we work at rearranging things, it becomes less tidy – it has to get worse before it can get better. As sections of the floorboards are exposed, dollar bills, crumpled and yellowed, are found lying about. I gather them up but do not flatten them.

Dan the busker limbs out of a forest to join me on a park trail.  he offers second-hand tobacco re-rolled.  I decline, politely.

Earworm: Too darn hot.


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