Yesterday / This Morning

Yesterday at work, facing a large horizontal window that has a huge verticle window to its left, I saw in rapid succession; a yellow butterfly, a hummingbird, and a dragonfly. So, as I sit waiting (one hundred days), I saw the symbol for imagination/happiness, the Native American symbol for integrity/hard work, and the symbol for hope/change/love. Signs. So many signs. So many days. 

This morning, I woke up confused. My alarm interrupted a dream that I think I've had before. At least, the setting seemed very familiar. But it couldn't be. I was in a late 60s/early 70s record store. And it wasn't vintage-style things; it was actually a perfectly preserved time capsule. The carpet was worn, the boxes of records were disintegrating. That wonderful musty smell hung in the air. I felt nervous like I didn't belong. 

Then, a bunch of people walked through an entrance I hadn't noticed before. I looked where they came from, and it was an immense hallway with a pink and brown tiled carpet. I speed down the hall and turn right to a massive library-type room with greenish hippie wallpaper and then realize I'm in Berkeley. (Why? No clue.) 

As I walk further into the room, there's a massive structure made from dark wood. I get closer and see it's a little one-room recording studio. I touch the wood and peer in, but it's empty, except for a polyester scrap of pink and brown fabric with an orange woven onto it. I start to take pictures with a small, dark blue digital camera that's now hanging from my neck. A man, one of the people who ran into the record store earlier, runs over to a plaque and reads it, announcing that this tiny studio is where CCR recorded Down On The Corner. I want to take a picture of the plaque but can't. The man leaves again. 

I look around, impressed by my surroundings, then am startled when a huge flat-screen TV appears on the outside of the recording studio room. Tons of people are now sitting on a couch that's suddenly appeared and start watching a Montreal Canadiens game. I look at the TV and see a sea of blue and red, then ask why Gritty, the Philadelphia Flyers mascot, is dressed as a Canadien. No one answers, I wake up. 

What the hell? Very strange.




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