I spent my weekend at home, vlogging, petting the cats, watching movies, reading books.
Allegro had a really good weekend. He was even playful when came over (that man can bring the kitten out of the most surly creature!) He had popcorn and cheese and ice cream all weekend and never ate his dinner. He purred frequently. He was snuggly and loving and begging and sweet. He seems to be doing OK. His breathing is a bit labored now, but so far he hasn’t spun into lethargy.
I may be in denial about how bad off he is, but he really did have a good weekend.
Alladin has been playful and silly all weekend, but has also taken time to cuddle, and has been harassing Allegro a lot less. Perhaps he’s figuring it out, or else he just realizes that *we* need him to be sensitive for a little while.
I vlogged. I wrote my business plan, which shouldn’t have been as hard to write as it was.
I left my cell phone at work on Friday night, so I didn’t have it all weekend. No problem: nobody called me anyway.
John and I watched Constantine and Spanglish. I liked them both, in different ways.
I want to go home and cry for a few hours. Shit.
I dreamed I was at San Jose State with some old high school friends (we were in a meeting or after-school club or something) when a fire broke out in a nearby wing of the building. Everyone evacuated, but I couldn’t see if all my friends got out, so I went back into the building. Twice. On my way back out the second time, this time with all my friends, there was an African man with a huge gun (like an old Kentuky rifle from the revolutionary days), shooting at another African or Haitian man (who had a gun, a pistol), and also shooting at everyone else. Both men were moving like they were drunk or diseased or zombies or something.
�
Eventually, the second man shot the first and returned into the building. I was asked by the firefighters to go in and get him back out. I went in and found him lying on a bunk, muttering in Russian. I convinced him to calm down and come out with me, and while I was there, I saw there was a sheepdog trapped in a chest or crate in the room, so I rescued it, too. We got out just as the part of the building we were in caught fire, too. Last ones out.
Later, I dreamed I was swimming in a jet-black natural pool at night, trying to catch a bunch of drow elves without being caught by them. There was a voice-over of talking about the rules for this particular exercise (i.e., D&D game rules). There was a lot of anxiety– I nearly got caught at least twice by drow who were swimming just below me.
And just before I woke up, I dreamed I was on highway 9 going south towards Scotts Valley as part of breakfast and commute. John was in the car with me, and we kept seeing all this really snarled up traffic. It looked like someone had dumped a landscaping truck full of sod and trees in the middle of the road– there was a stripe of dirt and vegetation running all the way up the center of the road, and a long line of cars in the right lane (southbound) who were not going anywhere. It was pouring rain. When we finally passed the head of the stopped line of cars, the car in the very front was completely crumpled up, and it was obvious there had been a serious accident involving this car, possible more cars, and a truck full of sod and vegetation. It continued to rain– just sheets and sheets of pouring rain, nonstop, and it was so dark, it felt like winter. I wanted to stay home.
I don’t have the kind of job where I can call in and say “My dreams tell me not to leave the house today.” 
