I apparently still have a bit of left-over anxiety from our recent non-move

BLOT: (22 Apr 2013 - 11:19:58 PM)

I apparently still have a bit of left-over anxiety from our recent non-move

I had a dream last night, of which I can only remember the last bits. Somehow, we—Sarah and myself—had our stuff spread out on the floor of this large, empty room. Like a high school gym. Probably it was a high school gym. Nothing really stacked up, all spread out in grids and grids of grids. Makes me think of what they do in crash/bomb forensics, which is possibly where the image came from, a large grid of the various detritus so it can all be seen while generally kept in relative place. Then, towards the end of the dream, some gliders went overhead, and I could tell they were dropping something into a thick wood nearby. Out back. I ran to the edge of the wood and couldn't see what was going on, but Sarah walked in far enough to be out of sight, and then came running back, because it was "cyanide" [my brain went movie-logic when it came to poison] and you could this brown shadow creeping out of the woods. And then I woke up. The last sensation being basically a question of what I could stand to leave if we had to flee the gas.

So...I'm not over the physical and emotional drain from the double move. I'm just going to assume that has a few days left to go, maybe even a few weeks. The fact that Jason and Katie are moving off in a couple of weeks is adding to it. Two friends we've hung out with fairly regularly since circa 2005.* Watching them go through something similar, but more final, has resonance. Combined with the loss of rhythm and place that comes when friends move away. And, back to us, the fact that we had to wait until we could get at least a couple of new bookcases to fill in for the one bookcase we had to throw-away and another one that got re-purposed. Living out of boxes is not something that suits me, alas.

Well, this week, I plan to finally get back into blogging. Not that I have ever really stopped, I just let it defocus. Except the same defocusing impacted my other longer-concentration activities—reading, watching movies, larger projects—and I'm ready to be focused again. More about that, tomorrow.

* Probably time for me to rework my poem "8Space", since I like it but I've never quite felt it was complete. Originally written about watching friends move off, the opening bit goes something like : "8 spacemen walked the moon/ Downtown Huntsville,/ 8 spacemen past and future, and/ 8 spacewomen. / Orbitting the bars, and lost in the /Stars /Reflected in the hazy fog and lost inside the /Background lights./ No one calls this home."

Me in 2013