Animal dreams, Part 3
I know, you're all busy getting ready for the Academy Awards.
Since noon, you've been holed up in a hotel, beautifying and drinking lots of water so that your skin will look dewy and snatching a quick midday snack of sushi to tide you over until the big parties after the event. And yes, writing and rewriting your acceptance speech onto tiny scraps of paper that will seem, despite the hours of diligent effort applied, to have been stuck at the bottom of your evening handbag because you were so sure that your little movie would not catch the attention of the Academy voters.
If, during the many commercials, when the line to the women's restroom is too long to contemplate, you need something to ponder, here's this: the night before last I dreamt about gerbils. Again. This is perhaps my third gerbil dream and my second or third post about gerbil dreams.
In this one, I was cleaning the tank that the critters live in. There was one gerbil, however, living in what looked like the water bottle that you hang on the outside of hamster-gerbil tanks so that they can take a drink occasionally. To clean the bottle, I had to gently ease the gerbil out. More challenging was the getting him back in. He was fat and the neck of the bottle was small. And once I managed to start the transition back, his whiskers would get stuck in the way. After many tries, I finally managed to get most of his body in, then gently shook the bottle until he suctioned back inside. Kind of like trying to get ketchup back into the bottle.
One of my yoga students suggested that I get a dream book and look up "gerbil" for analysis. Best not to know, I'm thinking.
Since noon, you've been holed up in a hotel, beautifying and drinking lots of water so that your skin will look dewy and snatching a quick midday snack of sushi to tide you over until the big parties after the event. And yes, writing and rewriting your acceptance speech onto tiny scraps of paper that will seem, despite the hours of diligent effort applied, to have been stuck at the bottom of your evening handbag because you were so sure that your little movie would not catch the attention of the Academy voters.
If, during the many commercials, when the line to the women's restroom is too long to contemplate, you need something to ponder, here's this: the night before last I dreamt about gerbils. Again. This is perhaps my third gerbil dream and my second or third post about gerbil dreams.
In this one, I was cleaning the tank that the critters live in. There was one gerbil, however, living in what looked like the water bottle that you hang on the outside of hamster-gerbil tanks so that they can take a drink occasionally. To clean the bottle, I had to gently ease the gerbil out. More challenging was the getting him back in. He was fat and the neck of the bottle was small. And once I managed to start the transition back, his whiskers would get stuck in the way. After many tries, I finally managed to get most of his body in, then gently shook the bottle until he suctioned back inside. Kind of like trying to get ketchup back into the bottle.
One of my yoga students suggested that I get a dream book and look up "gerbil" for analysis. Best not to know, I'm thinking.
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