lyme disease airbnb

For a discussion of some imagery from this dream, please visit this post in my blog preemie: my life's (a) dream.

Dream 1

I was walking or running or driving down a busy street, possibly in Denver, but possibly also in Houston. The light was an icy blue, like it was early morning, possibly in early spring or late winter. The road went down a long, moderate slope.

I knew I was in a hurry to get somewhere. I may have been in a hurry to get to some airport. But if I was walking, I knew I'd have to walk for a long time to get to the airport. And if I was driving, I knew I'd have to drive out of the city, through the desert mountains, for four hours before I got to the town with the airport.

I was going to some convention, possibly with my coworker RO. The first event of the convention was going to start soon. I had no idea how I'd travel for four hours, get on a plane, fly (to Houston?) and still be on time for the first event of the convention. Plus I still had to check into my hotel.

I suddenly realized I was on a baby blue Vespa scooter. This would make things a lot easier for me. I was driving the Vespa along on the sidewalk.

I stopped at an intersection. I looked around the corner, to my right. I saw a hotel like a Hampton Inn. It was a cheap hotel. But it looked nice, made out of heavy, peach-pink stone and with some sort of arched-out colonnade in front.

Suddenly I knew I was already where I needed to be, probably Houston. I may even have wondered why I'd thought I'd needed to do so much travel to get here. I knew this wasn't the hotel everybody who was going to the conference was staying at. But I figured I'd stay here. I'd stayed here before, probably with RO, on another business trip.

I went inside. There was a woman worker near the door, possibly sitting in a window well or sitting at a table, doing some kind of work, maybe computer or paper work, or maybe clipping her nails. She greeted me cheerfully but maybe somewhat distractedly.

I went to the front desk to check in. I thought the woman who'd greeted me would check me in. But another woman came out. She wasn't as nice to me. As she checked me in she said a few snide things to me.

I couldn't tell whether the woman behind the counter didn't like me because of the way I'd acted or something I'd said. So I decided to try and act nice and innocent. I said something about my suit for the convention and how I'd need to get it pressed after my trip here.

The woman said she had a room ready for me. I was expecting something in the building. But now we were in her car. She was driving me to the room.

We drove along a highway that overlooked some small neighborhood, like in some small town in the desert mountains. It looked like early winter here, too. There was frost everywhere. Finally we drove up into a neighborhood street, through a bunch of houses that looked a little like trailer homes.

I was sort of worried at this point. I thought I was staying in the hotel building itself. It would have been easy for me to walk to the convention from there. But I didn't have a car. It had been a far enough drive for us to get here. How was I going to unpack everything, walk to the convention, and still get to the first event on time?

The woman now drove through the house, through a living room, and then through a long room like a bedroom. There were lots of beds. But we stopped in a part of the room with three beds. The room was bright. It may have had a bit of a girly feel, maybe with a dollhouse somewhere. But it also felt sort of rundown and dingy.

The woman and I stood outside of the car. The woman pointed at a bed and said this was my room. I looked around. At first I thought I'd been put into some sort of dormitory or hospital room or mental hospital. But the place definitely looked like someone's house. I thought, All I wanted was a hotel room. Did she put me into an Airbnb?

The woman started walking back toward the front door, probably telling me some final things I'd need to know about my stay. We walked through some weird curtain that divided this room from another room full of beds. The curtain was like strips of fabric hanging down from the ceiling. They barely blocked the view of one room from the other.

The next room had three hospital beds. The hospital beds had hospital trays nearby. And some of the trays looked recently used. There may have been a cigarette lighter and an ashtray on one of them.

I asked, "Uh... Do I have this place to myself? Or will the people who live here also be sleeping here tonight?" This was totally not what I'd been looking for when I'd booked a room at the hotel.

The woman said, "Well, it's an Airbnb. People live here, you know. I mean, they said they were doing something else."

A woman who was older-looking and sort of tough-looking, with thick, square eyeglasses and short, unkempt hair, came up and said, "My surgery is happening this afternoon. That should keep us busy for a while."

The hotel woman said, "She got Lyme disease."

I may have noticed that the house woman had no hands, and maybe no forearms. But I also feel like the woman may have been wearing a long coat. So I may not have noticed this.

I was a little scared by the house woman. It felt like I was a little kid and she was maybe half my height taller than I. I turned to my right. Apparently this room of beds opened, along a wide wall (?), directly into the kitchen. The kitchen was wide, with a kitchen island in the middle. But it was dim and sort of rundown and cheap looking.

Some older adults were milling around in the kitchen, maybe preparing some food, smoking some cigarettes, etc. One of the adults was a balding man with a round head and face and probably a pretty big gut. He may have been wearing a kind of tight, white t-shirt that was worn out almost to translucency.

The adults started telling me about the surgery. Apparently the person getting the surgery was a young girl. Everybody was really worried about her. But they were all doing their best to act cheerful and optimistic.

I felt guilty. Here I'd been complaining and complaining about this hotel room or Airbnb or whatever it was. But the people who lived here were all really worried about this girl having to go into surgery. They were trying to be nice to me. And I hadn't been sympathetic at all. Couldn't I just stop being selfish and just try and be nice for a change?

I looked back toward the hotel woman, maybe to tell her that I'd take the room. She was also probably way taller than I, too -- again, like I'd somehow become a child or taken on a child's height.

The tough-looking woman walked back up to me. The hotel woman said, "She's seventeen."

I realized that the tough-looking woman, who'd told me earlier she was having surgery, was actually the girl everybody had been talking about. She was only seventeen years old. But whatever was afflicting her -- if it was Lyme disease (which I may have doubted) -- had impacted her so badly that she now looked really old.

The girl looked down to me and reached out her arm. I realized she wanted to shake hands with me. I suddenly didn't know what I would do. She didn't have any hands. But of course I would shake with her.

But I didn't know -- was I brought here to become the girl's boyfriend? Was I brought here to make the girl feel like she was still attractive?

I figured that right off the bat I would tell the girl I thought she was beautiful. And from then until the girl left for surgery, I would flirt with her. That way the girl would feel like someone thought she was cute.

sex or work?; lost biking in india

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was the middle of night in winter. I was probably in a car with a couple other people. We were probably out on a road deep in the woods. The snow was deep all around us. It was hard for us to get through wherever we were right then. But we were already preparing for a storm that would be even worse. It was snowing a little bit, even now.

The person who was driving the car was like our manager at wherever we worked. He may have been a black man, kind of tall, with a kind of big build. We were all going to our place of work. Our manager was telling us a number of things we needed to keep in mind as we prepared for the storm. He also told us that we should expect to be at our place of work for a while, because once the storm started we would probably be stuck right where we were.

We were now in some big place that kind of looked like a ski lodge. This was where I worked. It was a little dim. But it was full of people. Everybody seemed to be partying and having a good time. I was sitting on the right end of a couch. Two women sat directly to my left. Another person, somebody from my work, sat on a couch opposite mine.

The two women seemed to be talking to each other and to the person across from me. The woman right next to me was really looking for some boy to take home with her. But the woman to her left was making some argument against it. She was saying something like, In this kind of storm, you didn't need to make a long-term commitment with somebody. It would be way too difficult.

But the woman next to me said, "I'm not looking for a long-term commitment. I'm just looking for sex! I want a boy who wants to go home with me for the night."

I'd had the feeling that the woman had thought I was cute for a little while. But now I understood she was basically telling me flat out that she wanted to take me home with her. But for some reason I was still shy. I didn't want to respond to her, because I didn't know if she really liked me.

The woman must have been able to see this. She twisted around and grabbed me up in her arms. It was suddenly like I was so small, like maybe a nine- or ten-year-old boy! The woman was so huge to me -- especially her breasts. The woman basically just shoved my face right into her breasts and began snuggling me. The woman asked me, "What do you say? Do you want to come home with me for the night, little boy?"

Just being enveloped in the beautiful woman's body the way I was, I felt so aroused and so comfortable. I did want to go home with the woman -- as soon as possible. But I remembered that I was scheduled to work. We were going to have the big storm. I needed to be here to work the big storm. How could I just leave my job at the time when they needed me the most, just to go off and have sex?

But I knew if I didn't at least go ask my manager if I could get the evening off from work, the woman would be disappointed in me. The woman was still cradling me in her arms. But I was thinking of how, when I could get up, I could best phrase the request to my boss. I wanted to make it sound like it was some kind of real emergency, so my boss would let me go.

Dream #2

I was apparently in India with a male friend. It was daytime, and we were biking through some kind of desert. It was a hot, sunny day. My friend and I had gotten into some small argument about where we were going to go next. We were on a dirt trail I believe. But we had gone along a number of different trails, and now I may have felt like I wasn't going to be able to see what I'd wanted to see.

Somehow my friend and I got our issues resolved. (The resolution of these issues, oddly enough, may have involved the intercession of a huge, talking bird, kind of like a pale, mutated vulture that was almost the size of a human.) We had decided which path we were going to take. But my friend was still kind of being a jerk to me. So I decided that while we were biking, I would keep at a distance from him. I'd start really slow and then stay far behind him, so he couldn't talk to me.

Now the path we were going along was a concrete path. We may have been a lot closer to a city, too. We started out by going down a kind of steep slope. The slope led to a grassy and tree-filled area around a river. But my friend had turned off on one path, while I either purposely or accidentally missed the path. Instead, I turned off to the left. I was now riding along a path on the opposite side of the river from my friend. I was also riding above the river, instead of at a level kind of below it, like my friend was.


I was a little worried. I didn't want to lose my friend, and I didn't want my friend to think he'd lost me. But when I looked out to my right, and just a little way ahead of me, I could see my friend on his path. He didn't seem to be aware, yet, that he'd lost me.


I figured I'd speed up. As long as I kept pace with my friend, from my path, then I could join back up with him. I knew that just a ways ahead the path curved right, with the river. I had the feeling that, just after the path curved right, there was a little section that ran back over the river. I could cross the river at that section and meet back up with my friend.


At this point, my friend may have realized that he'd lost me. He looked around. Then he saw me on the path across the river. He may have held his arms out, as if to ask, "What do we do now?"


I tried to shout something like, "Keep in touch with my by phones!" or, "Keep in touch with me by texting!" But I may have lost my friend's view around the curve as I was saying this.


I figured that my friend wouldn't have any idea that he was supposed to wait for me just around the curve. And he seemed to be riding even faster now. I'd have to speed up to get to the crossing point ahead of my friend, so I could meet him there, not have him go ahead of me and keep riding away.


There was a chain-link fence along my left side. Past the fence was a slight, grassy slope. Just beyond that I could see some big buildings, some of which kind of shone white in the sunlight. I knew that we must have been close to a town by now.


But now whole crowds of people came walking down the slope. They crossed through the fence and walked out onto the concrete path. Nobody was paying attention to me. I had to dodge everybody on the path. I managed to do so and keep up my speed for a little while. But then there were too many people on the path. I had to slow down a lot to keep from hitting people.


But now I could see that a whole lot more people were coming down the slope. I realized that I was in the middle of some big festival. The people may have come here to do something like wash in the river. But pretty soon this whole path, as well as the land, down to the river, would be filled with people. I knew it wouldn't be a matter of riding slowly. I'd have to get off my bike altogether. Even then, I probably wouldn't be able to walk. I'd probably be at a total standstill during the ceremony.