Dream – April 14, 2012
I dreamed that some guy lent me his iPhone, and I got so absorbed in playing with it that I forgot to return it to him and ended up carrying it around all day. The most interesting thing was an app that allowed you to create holographic copies of objects in space. You’d focus the camera on an object, click the hologram icon, and the phone would project a laser beam, creating an identical object right next to you in the space around. I walked around with the phone, not wanting to give it back, even though I knew I had to. And in the dream, I thought, “Damn, now I want an iPhone too – like everyone else.” I was so proud of my hipster status in that moment. 🙂 I woke up and realized I didn’t actually want an iPhone.
But before I woke up, the boy who loved me (maybe even Arthur) had written all over the walls of my kitchen (I think it was the kitchen) either love confessions or accusations about why we weren’t together anymore. I couldn’t make it out. Some parts were one thing, others were something else. But nothing was resolved in the end.
Then, I dreamed that we went with someone to a mountain, where there was some sort of museum or something unclear. We got out of the car – and before we could even fully step out, the car disappeared. I immediately started trying to remember what I had left in it, what I lost with it. Strangely, I wasn’t that upset about it. After all, it was insured… But it still felt unpleasant. Then I wondered, how would I get back?
April 16, 2012
She spun around in front of me, showing off a strange outfit — ballet flats, leggings, a long silk robe with long sleeves… and everything — absolutely everything — made of ghastly silver lamé. Dressed like that, she was about to head off on a trip.
I probably should have told her how ridiculous she looked, but I didn’t want to upset her.
In the States, it’s common to “support” each other by lying a little — not saying what we truly think, but trying to say something nice in the most honest way we can manage. We might be thinking “what the hell is that?!” but we say “it looks great on you!”
Of course, I didn’t want to upset her either.
I honestly don’t remember now whether I said anything at all, but thankfully, this test of diplomacy wasn’t going to last long: she was running late for her flight.
I needed to return to her apartment, where I’d be housesitting while she was away.
Apparently, her husband had left earlier and she was now going to join him.
But to call it an “apartment” would have been an understatement.
It wasn’t just a home — it was a grand, three-level apartment in a luxury high-rise.
The first level was for the living rooms and shared spaces; the second, for bedrooms; the third, an enormous indoor pool with access to a balcony. The view from the balcony was breathtaking.
Each floor had ceilings at least four meters high, and in the pool area — six to eight meters.
The place was incredibly beautiful.
The gallery walls were covered in golden-beige marble, and the pool looked more like a palace.
And in this palace, I would live and enjoy myself for at least two weeks.
But then, three things happened in quick succession — one that stressed me, another that surprised me later, and a third that outright disappointed me.
First, although it was a luxury building, it was still an apartment complex. The cluster of apartments that occupied three floors each were separated from the general public by big doors.
What surprised me was that the apartments themselves didn’t have doors — meaning, once you passed through those big doors, you could walk into any unit.
I tried to shut the big doors, but people kept pushing through.
The doors were so wide that as soon as I managed to close one section, someone else would sneak through another.
There was a doorman standing by, but he wasn’t exactly hurrying to help me.
Finally, when I managed to close the doors, I asked the doorman to let no one in without my direct permission.
Then I took the elevator up to the apartment and once again marveled at how rich and beautiful it was.
I remembered once getting a tour of a similar apartment by a real estate agent, and now — here I was, actually living in one, even if only temporarily.
My mind started painting vivid pictures of the lively, luxurious days ahead.
Morning swims in the pool. Fresh fruits afterward…
Unfortunately, I didn’t get far with my plans for savoring these surroundings, because I climbed the beautiful marble staircase to the third floor to check out the pool and the balcony.
The pool area was quiet.
The blue-green water shimmered invitingly.
I ran out onto the balcony — and there was a jacuzzi.
It was snowing outside.
At the time, I didn’t realize how strange this was — for such an expensive apartment, the balcony and jacuzzi were actually shared by three neighboring units. (This later became the second surprise.)
One of the neighbors was climbing into the jacuzzi.
I asked her how the water was.
She said it was a little cold.
I turned up the heater to 105 degrees Fahrenheit, set the timer for 10 minutes, and went back inside.
And that’s when it happened — the third thing.
I woke up.