is waif
LEAVING NEW YORK
Last night I dreamt I set an apartment on fire. What happened was:
I am hanging-out at the person’s house, a person who I really really want to like me, just cuz. This person has a few friends over and one of them is this guy from Baltimore who plays in a comedy band. He is white and goofy and the general vibe of the dream is that you are supposed to love him. I do not love him. Baltimore funny boy makes multiple comments about how various women in the room “would look really nice” if they adjusted little things about their appearances. When I open my mouth to point out how this is offensive, all I can explain is that he is over-pruning all the plants in the room. I tell him, “THE PLANTS ARE COMPLETELY FINE JUST AS THEY ARE AND THEY DON’T NEED YOUR CRITICISMS OR YOUR CUTS.” So somehow I’m talking about plants when I’m really trying to stand up for women and the whole thing makes no sense, except a teeny tiny part of me knows defending plants and defending women is the same thing. There are a bunch of other women in the room who, I can tell from their eyes, are not on my page and do not get the plant thing. They don’t think he is being offensive, and I realize it is me against everyone else. Anyway, then I’m looking for Boston apartments on Craigslist. I’m not using a computer or a smart phone, but rather Craigslist is just projected onto my eyelids. I’m using my Craigslist eyelids to search for “apts for people in AA in Jamaica Plain.” Nothin.
"They don’t think he is being offensive, and I realize it is me against everyone else. Anyway, then I’m looking for Boston apartments on Craigslist. I’m not using a computer or a smart phone, but rather Craigslist is just projected onto my eyelids."
Then I’m in the kitchen of this person-who-I-want-to-like-me’s place. I have a flight in 2 hours and need to be packing. TFW YOU DID NOT START PACKING EARLIER!! It occurs to me while I’m packing that the kitchen is enormous, like BIG, in a way that’s suddenly a problem... I’m packing up all the kitchen ware, all the food, and also a bunch of personal belongings which I’ve stored in various drawers, cabinets, etc. Quinn and Hannah are suddenly also in the kitchen packing all of their stuff. I’m confused and resentful because they were not at the plant/feminism debate... do they even have a plane to catch? This is my plane to catch. MINE. Quinn is surrounded by hoards of fancy crop tops from places like Everlane. She’s folding her tiny clothes and seems very calm and self-assured with all of her shit next to her. I am so envious of her EVERLANE-CALM. Hannah is on a raised platform folding and packing her shit, mostly purses. This is the second time Hannah has appeared in one of my dreams lately, possessing a designer purse that was appropriate for ultra femme-dream-version-of-me but not real me. I suddenly feel stressed, like everyone who is about to get on a plane is supposed to be dressed high-femme and that is just not me, even if dream me is pretending!!! The platform Hannah is sitting on is like one that a drummer would sit on with their entire drum set but there’s no drum set, only clothes.
Anyway, then my boss Mark comes into the kitchen and is like, “Lily, we gotta get you to the airport.” I don’t have time to be concerned that Mark, my employer, is appearing as a chauffeur-type in my dream. I am just grateful someone is getting me where I need to be. I realize I am nowhere near packed and it sinks in that the amount of stuff I have is way way too much. It’s pouring out of drawers and every time I try to organize some group of things into a container another bunch of that same type of thing appears in another part of the kitchen.
So then I start cooking. There are two, enormous stoves, each with 6-8 burners. Most of the burners are already lit, with pots filled with water on them. Smoke fills the room, which I can sense is now officially on fire. Who turned the stoves on? Not me. It’s not my fault. I know that Baltimore goofy guy has something to do with it. But there are rumors surfacing that it was actually ME who turned the stoves on?!?! Dream rumors aren’t like real life rumors, they are just sort of a felt sense of terror, rather than a discussion. I walk by Quinn, who has this disgusted look on her face, which tells me SHE THINKS I’M THE ONE WHO STARTED THE FIRE.
Fuck, I’m really fucked.
While the apartment starts to burn, it occurs to me that I’m related to Baltimore funny boy by blood. This upsets me a lot but I don’t have time to focus on that because I need to evacuate the building because I set it on fire, or at least... THAT’S THE RUMOR! So I’m in an elevator heading to the first floor with everyone else and I get out of the building and my boss has a car waiting for me to go to the airport. Fire trucks are pulling up to the building and other occupants who came down the elevator with me are gathering, staring up at the smoke.
But before I know it I’m buckled up, driving away to the airport. Fire’s not my problem anymore, but I do genuinely hope they figure it out. Flying in an airplane from New York to Boston is not necessary but it does make for a more dramatic exit, which is why I’m doing it.