Just give me the coffee

I woke up this morning with the alarm and was almost too groggy to stand up. I hit the off button and immediately collapsed back into bed. The strange dreams from which I’d been pulled immediately swallowed me up again, and I slept for another two hours before I managed to rouse myself.

I think my inability to wake up cleanly is a side effect of my drinking less – a LOT less – than I had been through most of the Winter. I wasn’t sleeping all that well when I was drinking heavily, but this is different. It’s like my body is trying to compensate for all the sleep I didn’t get the last few months.

In the dream, I kept visiting a church. It was a low, flat, boxy building that looked like it had been built in the late 60s. The plaster on the ceiling had little sparkly flecks in it, and all the lighting was from florescent tubes. The main double doors on the East side of the building opened directly into the chapel, where a line of pews faced South. There was a sign-in book in the back of the chapel (the North end). If you turned right immediately upon entering the chapel, there was a wide, linoleum-floored hallway that led back to the administrative offices. The break room was back there, and that’s where I kept returning.

They had coffee. Good coffee, in spite of the fact that it was brewed in one of those diner-style affairs with glass carafes. I’m pretty sure the coffee maker in my dream was based on the one we have at work, which is a nasty diner-style affair with glass carafes.

There were a couple of very odd things about the dream which let me know that I was dreaming as it was happening. First, the reverend/priest who was always sitting in the chapel was Samuel L. Jackson. I am fairly certain that he does not conduct services in his spare time. Also, I was acutely aware that this was a church building that I was going to, and I am decidedly not Christian. (Come to think of it, I think I had a conversation with someone in the break room about Deism.) Finally, no matter how many times I went back to the break room, I was somehow unable to obtain a cup of coffee.

So it was with no small degree of delight that I dragged my groggy ass out of bed two hours ago and fired up my Cuisinart ™ coffee maker and brewed myself five cups of rocking, jumper-cables-to-your-cerebellum coffee.

Perhaps my dream reflected subconscious desires to be accepted by a community. Perhaps it was a metaphor for the eternal lack of fulfillment which is the human condition. All I know for sure is, I’ve got my coffee.

Now then.

I’m going to finish Enjay’s trofi today because another very urgent knitting project has presented itself. I just realized we’ve got two weeks until Mother’s Day! Ack! I need to finish my mom’s candle flame shawl by then. I think that’s a realistic timeline, but that means I need to get a couple of other things off my plate. Namely my dad’s project, which is blessedly almost done. I’m going to meet with him tonight to show him what I’ve got and see if I’m going in the right direction or if I need to change tack.

Oh, one more thing: I recently upgraded my laptop to OS X 10.2, aka Panther. This opened up a whole new world of software to me, including Ecto (formerly Kung-log), which is a desktop blogging application. This allows me to upload pictures from my desktop (something I could not do while blogging with VIM) and it spell-checks as I type, thanks to the native OSX spellchecking utility. It even lets me post what songs I’m listening to in iTunes: She Cries Your Name from the album Pass in Time – The Definitive Collection by Beth Orton. Don’t know how often I’m going to use that particular feature, but it is cute.

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