I was going through my Easter basket; Mummy was with me. She asked me what I was going to do with my hydration station and the twenty-five dollars that she had given me. I told her that I’d probably buy more clay. She asked how many dolls I could make with a block of clay. I told her, three. She said, “That’s good!” Then Ron woke me up banging on my door with Frankie. I gave him the finger and slept on the couch.
The second dream took place at an aquarium. Mummy and Becky Galbraith were there. Becky and I had made up. There were enormous hatchet fish, and I showed Mummy how big they were with my hands. I was looking for a bathroom when a guy from the group pointed out some barbs, sleek black fish.
The third dream should’ve been epic, but I am so sleep deprived. It began alongside the car in a parking lot on a class trip to a fair. I had lots of girlfriends along, but none that I recognized from real life. I wanted to make an old-fashioned plastic mermaid. The female vendor told me that it would cost ten to thirty-five dollars. I said that my money was in my bag in the car. My girlfriend said that she’d lend me the money. The vendor was showing me plastic bags filled with odd things: emblems, Mucha sorts of designs, and other old-fashioned stuff, but nothing like the little mermaids that were supposedly do-it-yourself from a pressed mold, I presumed. The last bag had a polished bronze relief of Neptune fixed to a piece of clear turquoise plastic, something like a little fishing rod, a tiny compass, and other brassy fixings. I took that one. My teacher or chaperone, a tall white middle-aged man, was talking to somebody about canceling a loan. I passed a big bin full of things like a navy-blue wool stuffed elephant. We were heading towards the car when Ron had the actual gall to wake me up again. Then he asked me for breakfast. I told him that I’d fix him a middle finger sandwich along with a thank God Dana isn’t running away omelet.
