I keep having dreams about prison almost every single night for the last two weeks. Before two weeks ago, I never had a prison dream, let alone any dream that appears almost every night.
I’m dreaming again because my current bedtime audiobook is the Tao Te Ching. It’s only an hour and 43 minutes so it doesn’t last all night and into morning like my last audiobook did. When the book ends, the dreams begin.
Usually the prison dreams are harmless. All the characters from Orange is The New Black are there. Red acts as my Mother and cares for me while all the prisoners are happy and don’t want to leave. Almost like they forgot they’re in prison. They only care about hooking up with each other and little else. I was the only one that wanted to escape, which I did by the end of each dream.
The prison was actually a happy place but only because every one was preoccupied with hooking up. There were rumors about prisoners wanting to hook up with me, but I ignored them and focused instead on breaking out.
All the prison dreams are like this. All except last night when things turned dark.
The prison started out at as being a school. I was in class trying to pay attention to the teacher when this one boy kept inching his desk closer and closer to me until he was right next to me shoulder to shoulder.
He had a crush on me and instead of me being flattered, I despised it. I told myself to be nice to him so I don’t accidentally hurt his feelings. “Just be nice Mel, keep you’re cool.”
But when he got to be shoulder to shoulder with me, I flew into a rage. I pushed him and said “get the fuck off me!”. Even though I specifically told myself not to do that, I couldn’t help myself.
That’s when the school turned into a prison but instead of it being a regular prison, it was more like a school. The cells were classrooms. I left the classroom to get away from that boy and plotted my escape once again but this time I wasn’t alone.
I had two friends with me. A comical big fat black woman and a regular dude about my age, maybe a little younger.
We were caught trying to escape and sent to the disciplinary department which doubled as a shoe department. The sadistic shoe maker gave us new shoes and as punishment for trying to flee, he nailed the shoes to my friends feet. I was next in line to get the nails, but the shoe maker over looked me, saying that I wasn’t as much of an idiot as the other two I was with.
My friends could no longer run, but I could. And so I did.
I ran through the school/prison and had to pee really bad. I found the bathroom where all the stalls were, and the custodians were there working on a new toilet system involving tubes everywhere and the toilet I was to sit on was too high of a reach. I was trying to climb up on the toilet when the dude I was with previously, the one who got the nails in his feet, busted in and said “Melanie! What are you doing?!” He was upset I wanted to leave the place.
“I’m trying to pee but the seat is too high. I keep falling off. Why are you in the women’s room?”
“I wanted to know how you like your hamburger.”
“My hamburger? What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“I’ll just put ketchup on it.”
And he left to go fetch me a hamburger. He was starting to like me and wanted to impress me with a hamburger, and because of that, he lost all coherence of being in a prison and instead focused on impressing me.
That’s when I woke up and really had to pee.
In real life, there’s a guy I hung out with about a month ago. He’s an old friend who I haven’t hung out with in 18 years and he contacted me on Facebook. I kept putting him off for maybe a month or two when finally I said screw it and met him for a drink at a bar/restaurant in walking distance from my house.
Since then, he’s called and texted me non-stop. He called at 2:30AM last night when I had to wake up at 7AM. I was pissed. So pissed that I almost flew into a rage like in my dream. But instead, I calmed myself and put him under the Do Not Disturb option on my phone.
I’m pretty sure the dreams started because of him. I told him how I feel relationships are like a prison. People focus on relationships instead of trying to break out of their bleak working lives. And since then, the prison dreams are relentless.
But they make sense to me. The perfect analogy. But I’m not sitting around all day thinking about it, the only time I remember thinking about it was with that guy I hung out with. So it’s perplexing that I’m dreaming of prison this often when I never think about it in waking life.
Maybe they’ll stop now. Now that I’ve written about it.
I was also scared about getting sued because the window of opportunity of that happening was inching down. The prison dreams may have also stemmed from that as well.
On May 20th I wrote a detailed plan for my business.
Okay, so not very detailed, but the plan is still a go.
July and August I found myself with having one or two clients a day. I lounged around watching bad sci-fi movies on Netflix and worried about my productivity.
“What if I’m like this when I don’t have to work at all anymore? Just laying around doing nothing?”
But then from the grace of god, I found myself with 5 days off in a row in late August. Not a single client. During these five days, I practiced the piano, went to Rhode Island and stayed over night (the first time this year), devised a new member client system, went hiking twice (the first time this year), hung out with valued friends.
I can’t remember the last time I had 5 days off in a row (besides taking trips). And during these 5 days I realized that I’m not as lazy as I think. Everything I wanted to do, everything that I put off, I did in those 5 days. All the while, worrying about my business. If the phone is being answered and if clients are happy – I was tethered to the business and couldn’t fully relax. Same thing happened when I went to Alaska. Impending doom circled my head like a halo.
But then my employee cut her hours and I’m back at it again. Massaging 3 or 4 clients a day. I feel relieved that I’m there overseeing everything, but miserable that I have to massage again. I’m relieved too that I can squirrel away even more cash to pay off my debt, but miserable that this tirade of struggle seems to go on and on.
I feel really close this time though. Just a few more months until freedom. But I’m struggling with the first leg of my plan, paying off at least one of my bills to free up money needed to afford the extra massage room. I can afford it now, but that’s going against the plan. It’s jumping the gun. Bad things happen when I do that.
I have no choice but to wait until one bill is paid off. The suspense of how my plan will turn out is killing me.
My newest fantasy while massaging people is that of my cross-country adventure. I decided not to go with a motorcycle, but a moped instead. You can ride a moped anywhere and if the engine breaks down or I run out of gas, I can peddle the damn thing. I can freely ride the cross-country bicycle trails. That’s the main reason for wanting a moped. I even picked out the bike I want.
Going cross-country on a highway, in my opinion, would be a shit time and the point of this expedition will turn into a destination trip and not a site seeing journey taken through winding roads through quaint towns. Sticking with the bicycle trail is imperative. Plus I don’t need to rely on navigating while following the path, it’s like walking the Camino.
It’s called the Survival Motoped and it’s meant to withstand the zombie apocalypse. I can order it and put it together myself, or buy it already put together. A very big part of me wants to buy it right now and put it together so I’ll have it ready by the time of my trip. But that goes way against my plan.
If I put it together myself, learn how to put the engine together, the frame, the spokes, it reminds me of the book Zen and the art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I can repair it myself if it starts acting up and I learn appreciation and self-efficiency.
One night, not too long ago, while watching Netflix and eating some delicious take-out, I picked out the attire that will accompany me on my trip.
A pair of protective motorcycle blue jeans, a leather motorcycle jacket with zippered vents for the summer, protective motorcycle boots and a half helmet. They say to wear a full helmet with this bike along with full motorcycle protective gear, but wearing full armor on a moped looks ridiculous. Plus I’m scared a full helmet will obscure my peripherals.
And for the undershirt, I’m going with Ably. Supposedly I can wear it everyday without having to wash it. I pre-ordered one and it’s supposed to come sometime this month.
The Survival Motoped costs more than a Honda Grom, the original bike I wanted to go with. But you can literally drive it anywhere and it has the same amount of CC’s as the grom, goes just as fast. Has more storage space. And I love the idea that I can peddle it if anything were to happen to the motor.
And it’s a zombie apocalypse inspired bike!
I’m worried about two obstacles in my way of the trip.
ONE: Not paying off my debt in time and TWO, not being able to afford a receptionist.
I NEED a receptionist. Without a receptionist, I’ll carry with me an impeding halo of doom.
Without a receptionist, I’ll have to wait yet another year to take my trip. Let the seasons circle around again. We only have 80 or so cycles of these seasons and I’m already going on number 37!
Today is Monday, my day off. I don’t feel like doing shit. In fact, I want to go back to sleep. I started writing this post as soon as I woke up from my dream so not to forget it a few hours later.
And the thing with relationships being a prison, I’m not that bad when it comes to them. Knowing that someone is out there waiting for me is comforting, but I know exactly what I want in life. I know exactly who I am because I know what I want in life. And I know for certain I’m prone to distraction and letting years slip by while toiling in the slog of life’s interruptions.
Not knowing or finding a paid profession that I’m in love with, makes it hard for people like me. People who get bored after a while, who hate being told what to do. I’m curious about everything, but not enough to spend thousands of dollars and years of my life going to school learning about something that I might get bored with and feel trapped in like a hen in Animal Farm. The drama, the hierarchy, the scandals.
If I go back to school, it won’t be for the purpose of finding a job when I’m done. It’ll be to continue where the professor left off. For further research and discovery and not because I’m being paid for it.
Did you know there’s a rare disease (only 100 known cases) where your brain is unable to sleep? It’s not regular insomnia, it’s an actual brain malfunction where it loses the ability entirely. It’s called Fatal Famillial insomnia. It’s mostly genetic, but the protein can also be passed on via body fluids or eating something tainted with it. Like Mad Cow meat. You can get it at any age even if you were born with it, you won’t know you have it until decades later.
Once it starts, you have 18 months to live. You live with anxiety, paranoia, hallucinations and then finally dementia. Basically it takes approximately 18 months of no sleep to kill you.
It may be my day off, but it’s also my parents anniversary (45 years) so we’re going out to eat. I bought them an Acer laptop for their gift. They both love it. My Dad cruises Amazon looking at crossbows and my Mom plays her free online slot games and forwards chain emails to all her cousins. Last night I introduced her to YouTube, my personal favorite.
It’s almost payday so I have to go to work and pick up everyone’s pay sheets to send in.