Took a nap, a late nap, today, Christmas Day, because I had nowhere else to be and no one left to see. Slept in the big bed in the house I’m watching, with a big floofy doggo on my feet, and dreamed of silly things.
When I woke up, it was dark in the house and the dog was downstairs, whining to go out. I tossed on a pair of jeans, some shoes, my hoodie, and walked the dog. Realized I was hungry, remembered one of my favorite diners was open serving prime rib dinner.
A short drive later, I was sitting in the dining room, with a giant slab of meat and potatoes in front of me, a warm boozy drink melting in my stomach. Was nice.
The sounds from the bar, through the doorway, felt fake, like foley from a TV show. Was I dissociating? Maybe I was slipping through the cracks in reality. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe my dreaming mind didn’t wake up from the nap.