Dreamed I had a party. Lots of people were there. My house looked cheap and bare like a campus house, but my front yard was clean and bright with healthy grass and flowers. The street was narrower and sleepier.

Jerah told me there were really lovely houses for sale in Clintonville. I said I was going to stay in my house. “Well, what are you doing, then” she demanded.

Lots of fragments last night, and one big one.

Dreamed that I was a teenager, that I had a little sister and that Mum was marrying someone new. He was a terrible bore with a terrible beard and bad glasses, and it seemed to me that his job was to read fatuous books and then pontificate about them. In the dream, he had a name, but I guess I worked hard to forget it.

It was his birthday and we had sat down to dinner at our craftsman table in the craftsman dining room of our craftsman home. Everything about the Stepfather was craftsman and books. He was a real one-trick pony, like a stereotype from a 90s movie.

I’d “forgotten” to get him a present, but I had a card for him. It was in my room. I went to get it.

The house was on a lake that seemed to be split into two wings, one on either side of a u-shaped dock that opened out onto the water. My room was in the far wing, so I had to cross the dock to get to it. The lake had risen that day and the dock was covered in a few inches of greenish water.

My room was upstairs and set up like a teenager’s room would be, with a bed and a desk and posters. I found the card I wanted to give to the Stepfather. I’d made it last year as a Christmas card but never sent it out. It was done in pen and pencil crayon. It was a landscape with a lion in the sun. It was unfinished, so I got to work finishing it up. I had to scribble out the “Christmas 2008” that was written in the corner. That all took far too long and they’d already started opening presents by the time I returned.

Dreamed I was in a new episode of Scrubs, but it was real life.

Dreamed I had many glass cabinets arranged in a row.

Woke up singing “Ruthie”.

Dreamed it was my first day substitute teaching at a suburban high school. I was up and on the road before the sun, and it was hot and muggy. I was driving my old Honda, but it seemed brand new. I was driving a bird’s nest of twisty elevated highways when my accelerator stopped responding. I was running on fumes.

I was downtown and I knew there was one gas station nearby, but I wasn’t sure where it was. I got a bit lost and ended up on the driveway into the Dream Courthouse parking garage, which is a great fascist concrete silo. I noticed that the power was out in the courthouse and surrounding block. It frightened me, so I backed all the way down the ramp and hightailed it out of there. There weren’t any other cars around anyway.

I drove for a while, but I was barely puttering along in the car. I parked and there was a bike, so I took it, thinking I would bring gas back to the car. It was a mountain bike and its wheels were half flat.

I rode into a narrow restaurant that was packed full of hungry businesspeople. I got off the bike. A waiter asked if I wanted to be seated and I told him no thanks, that I was just in a hurry. When I reached the back wall, the restaurant became a boat. There was a ladder to the deck. The deck was the sidewalk.

I used my black flip phone to call the school to tell them that my car broke down and that I would be late. He said they would have to dock my pay for the hours I missed.

Dreamed I was with a crowd of people on a beach at the foot of a hill. There was a town above us with ranch houses and many trees.

Someone said that the lake was coming. Beyond the ridge, we could see roiling waves.

I had put my phone on a towel next to a lounger I was sitting on. There were elevated seats on the beach framed with wooden boxes. Eddie Murphy was buried up to his neck inside one.

We all turned to face the hill as a great wave came crashing up over the hillside and down through the town. It looked powerful enough to wipe it out, but did very little damage. By the time it reached the beach, it was like the gentle lap of the receding tide.

My phone and towel were washed up the beach somewhat, but I recovered both and all was well.

Dreamed I was in high school. I had a ton of weed that I had been selling and the place was on lockdown. There were cops all over the place.

I can’t remember why I wasn’t able to flush it down the toilet, but that was out of the question. There was a sort of relaxation room with a convertible futon couch in it and I thought the stash might be safe there, so I hid it between the lower slats. It was still visible from the front, though, and everyone had seen me go in alone so they would know whose weed it was.

Eventually things loosened up and they let us go outside. There were cameras everywhere. I was out back for a while, where the yard connected with a bike path that ran along the river. There was a screen of trees not far along, so I pretended to jog until I had entered the protection of the screen and began to bury the stuff. But then I saw that there were dogs and thought better of that plan.

I went back to join the rest of my peers, and the principal was waiting, talking to the group. He was a real-human Principal Skinner. The cops had been searching bags. I stuffed the baggies down the back of my underwear and crossed my fingers.

In the end, no one was the wiser and we all got to go home.

Dreamed I went to a resort with Mum and Dad. It was in an oasis in the desert, in the centre of a great ring of trees and earth. There were dark men on dark horses singing songs. The hotel was limestone with tall, bare walls, massive doors and great pillars throughout. Every room was hung with white linen.

There was a sulfur hot spring with cloudy azure water. The water was warm, but even though the sun shone clear in the air the air above the pool was breezy and cool. I swam for some time before I realized I had Sean’s phone in my pocket, but I laid it out on a rock in the sun and it was fine.

Dreamed that Jacob moved into Lyon Place. Even though the building was built in 2010, his flat hadn’t been renovated yet and the whole place was done up in rococo revival. The bathroom was particularly untouched. It had a very pale pinkish textured wallpaper, white painted trim and brass sconce lighting. Flushing the toilet made the pipes groan.

The kitchen was small and bright and had laundry. In the living room, Jacob had set up a sofa facing big, bright picture windows overlooking the construction across the street. He’d set up a dozen or so milk crates filled with records and a couple of turntables under a massive neon something. There was at least one cat. I think two.

He poured us each a massive screwdriver served in plastic cups and we listened to music.

We took a walk around the block to the Dream Bookstore, which was on the street level of a great old train station. (Or was it a post office? Maybe both.) They sold costumes, too. I browsed the novelty racks. There were men in red livery on horseback outside. Everything looked older.

Dreamed sometime last week that I was driving up a mountain in a red convertible. As I approached the summit, a beautiful German town came into view. There was a white church with a red steeple and beautiful golden bells and a bouquet of beautiful half-timbered buildings. The skyline was silhouetted against the setting sun, flanked by twin snowy peaks.

Johannes told me that it was the most beautiful town in Germany, but that its citizens were the rudest and meanest.

Dreamed I was sleeping in the woods by the side of a road. I had just awoken and Tupelo and his long-lost brother were snuggled with me in my sleeping bag. Across the road, there was a man in a leather swivel armchair talking on his iPhone. I didn’t trust him, so I got up.

I was in a city that I thought was New York but looked like Copenhagen. Jerah was walking with me and we were both late for work. I was carrying all my “camping gear” (actually a bunch of small electronics and music equipment) with me in a big grey duffel. I also had my Korg MS2000 with me.

There were green wire chairs installed around the city to facilitate a sort of charity relay. Someone should occupy the chair at all times, and volunteers were trading off on the hour. I saw an empty one, so I sat down. Not long after, a college kid approached and apologized for being late. She said “let’s take the shot” and I told her it was too early to drink, but she explained that she meant we should take a photo, so we did.

Jerah and I continued walking for a bit and the rising sun shone gold on the buildings. We stopped in the street and set up the keyboard and played some music. I didn’t know why the keyboard was making sounds without an amp.

A young Korean girl who had just moved to America and who had been walking behind us stopped to listen. A little crowd quickly gathered. She said “I can’t believe this hasn’t gone wiral” (meaning “viral”) and we explained that this kind of thing happens all the time in America. “This is just what it’s like here,” another onlooker confirmed.

When I got to work, Maurice informed me that I had finally been assigned to a real desk. I was going to be working on the GameStop account.