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What feels like a whole muscle group in my neck/shoulder has seized up into a painful rock hard fist the last two nights, waking me with the pain. gah, I say, gah. Yoga stretches and advil blue have loosened it, but, seriously, gah.
Restless dreams with emotional unhappy, but interesting details and some moments of warmth. Like, at a potluck dinner with a large bunch of friends and acquaintances, there's some sweet stuff I eat before the meal, then we all sit down and suddenly it's like we all fell asleep at the table. I wake up, most everyone else still groggy, and apparently we did eat dinner, but I can't remember it at all and am alarmed. Plus, now it's time for dessert and, having no memory of a meal, only the sweet thing before, I feel vaguely ill at the notion of more sugar. However, the warm note through all of this, there's been a promising flirtation and some kind moments between me and a guy I like, who is sitting next to me.
Then I'm at a restaurant with two women who are more acquaintances than friends. We're in San Francisco and I'm visiting. The menu the waiter brings us is a ring binder with sandwiches in plastic sleeves. They are amazing sandwiches, with woven bread, slices of vegetable with the word "grilled" etched into them, prosciutto-like meats tied into little knots with heirloom salad greens--like sandwich art cards, I guess, the name of each inscribed in various ways into the bits making it.
Anyway, I know what I want (the knotted one), but the waiter comes back four times and one of the women, who is an older woman, just can't or won't decide and keeps making us wait. I'm really hungry, but trying to be polite. When she sends him away for the fourth time I see him roll his eyes and know he's never going to come back. And I'm sooo hungry. Two friends of the women join us, I feel very out of place and out of sorts, and hungry. I notice the waiter wandering here and there, putting out food for a stray cat, and, since I know he's never coming back, I go foraging and find stacks of individually wrapped pieces of break at his wait station. One kind is "Voodoo Bread" with a free voodoo doll in with the bread. I swipe one and sit back down at the table, ignoring the conversation I was never included in to happily eat my dark, seeded, heavy bread, gleeful over the prospect of my voodoo doll.
Restless dreams with emotional unhappy, but interesting details and some moments of warmth. Like, at a potluck dinner with a large bunch of friends and acquaintances, there's some sweet stuff I eat before the meal, then we all sit down and suddenly it's like we all fell asleep at the table. I wake up, most everyone else still groggy, and apparently we did eat dinner, but I can't remember it at all and am alarmed. Plus, now it's time for dessert and, having no memory of a meal, only the sweet thing before, I feel vaguely ill at the notion of more sugar. However, the warm note through all of this, there's been a promising flirtation and some kind moments between me and a guy I like, who is sitting next to me.
Then I'm at a restaurant with two women who are more acquaintances than friends. We're in San Francisco and I'm visiting. The menu the waiter brings us is a ring binder with sandwiches in plastic sleeves. They are amazing sandwiches, with woven bread, slices of vegetable with the word "grilled" etched into them, prosciutto-like meats tied into little knots with heirloom salad greens--like sandwich art cards, I guess, the name of each inscribed in various ways into the bits making it.
Anyway, I know what I want (the knotted one), but the waiter comes back four times and one of the women, who is an older woman, just can't or won't decide and keeps making us wait. I'm really hungry, but trying to be polite. When she sends him away for the fourth time I see him roll his eyes and know he's never going to come back. And I'm sooo hungry. Two friends of the women join us, I feel very out of place and out of sorts, and hungry. I notice the waiter wandering here and there, putting out food for a stray cat, and, since I know he's never coming back, I go foraging and find stacks of individually wrapped pieces of break at his wait station. One kind is "Voodoo Bread" with a free voodoo doll in with the bread. I swipe one and sit back down at the table, ignoring the conversation I was never included in to happily eat my dark, seeded, heavy bread, gleeful over the prospect of my voodoo doll.
