I work 45 minutes away from the floor on which I'm sleeping. Or the floor I'm sleeping on. Or my sleeping floor.
Call it what you will. This afternoon I drove back to Nashville from work & decided I was going to apply at yet another coffee shop, because one is not enough. I went in, ordered a macchiato, paid, winced at the bitterness of it, and went outside to smoke & fill out an application. The employee came out to smoke with me, and we started chatting it up. He was a nice guy-- called me a "real coffee drinker"-- and to keep up the image I used big words & impressive phrases: "yerba mate," "single origin," "Leonard Cohen," "that thin North Carolina taste," etc. Hopefully he's put in a good word for me & I'll have a second job. Then I'll get my teeth fixed.
You know those dreams where your teeth are falling out? They supposedly mean you're worried about money. I have those dreams when I'm awake. My head has been pounding for hours now, but my teeth have been hurting for two days. I can't tell if my head is making my teeth ache or if my teeth are making my head ache. Doubtless, the two are connected.
So that's the order of my plans. Get second job. Get teeth fixed.
Still, my recent dental daymares pale in comparison to a dream I had three weeks ago: My lips were super-chapped & I couldn't find any Carmex or Chapstick or Vaseline, not even water. I tried to resist the urge to bite my lip, but after a while the temptation got to me. I bit it, and my whole lip split open. The red skin fell & hung limply over my goatee, while my lip muscle lay exposed, pulsing, textured like the underside of a portobello mushroom. Eventually some kind stranger, whose face I couldn't see, put it back together.
I wonder what busted lip dreams mean.