I'm So Hot for You and You're So Cold

Mick Jagger wanted to have sex with me. Okay, it was in a dream but he was so worked up, like a teenage boy!  The setting was a party at an unfamiliar workplace.  Mick was invited as a guest because in dreams, these things happen.  We were told to wear underwear bottoms only but that did not hit anyone sideways.  But before you get too excited this was real women in real work day intimates, nothing sexy.  I saw some granny panties and unflattering extra backsides.   At one point we were all lying on the floor with giant pillows, watching music videos with Mick and he laid next to me.  He was giggling like a little boy with that giant mouth, so playful, having a great time as if we were such exotic creatures.  He turned and made notice of my slightly out of shape rear, and made a joke about it.  I looked back realizing I had my droopy boy shorts on that I wear to sleep in but I wasn't embarrassed.  I felt more annoyed that he probably never had to see a girl who wasn't perfect. But this made him want to make out with me even more, as if a sad, disinterested backside was a giant turn on for him.  Playfully he got on top of me from behind, laughing and giving me kisses around my neck and ears.  I was confused at how this could be upsetting to me when I knew I should be thrilled out of my mind.  It wasn't quite a lucid dream, yet I knew this could never be, so I refused to play along.  He jumped up and said he wanted to rub my feet as if it was the most genius idea he'd had all year.  He sat in a chair in front of everyone and brought my leg up onto his knee very ceremoniously.  Screams of excitement broke out as he massaged my foot with his long, boney hands.  I asked my strange coworkers to please get a picture of this with my phone as no one would ever believe it.  That's when I realized my purse was missing with my phone in it.  That became my focus, so I got up quickly and started looking around.  Mick was following me like an obsessed puppy.  Yet suddenly I became filled with inexplicable depression!?  See, this is why I can't have good dreams.   

I ran upstairs to get away from everyone, needing to lay down and be alone.  As I ran I realized I had come upon my mom and dad's apartment that was in our second house and a place for many of my recurring dreams.  That apartment was once mine, my sister's, as well as a man named Mr. Buttes.  When my parents took it, I knew it was a refuge from their troubles and increasingly problematic teenage kids.  But in the dream, it was not the same layout, instead a long railroad flat with dirty cement floors and several kitchens.  It looked abandoned for years yet there were open half empty boxes of pizza strewn all over the rooms.  I was hungry but didn't touch them, unsure how long they had been setting out.  The dingy curtains were drawn in the dark, damp bedroom.  The bed looked grey but I wanted to lay in it and fall asleep for a lifetime.  A few of those strange co workers came rushing to say Mick was looking for me and gee, wasn't I going back down?  

COVID is taking over my dreams: Looking back, this was the beginning of Long COVID, a syndrome that I had suspected even from the last bout with the virus. 

Breezy, blue skies shown through a tiny sliver of light through the shades but I was in that room, dank and heavy and needed to sleep.   Mick would have to wait. 

Chicken Chilaquiles with poached eggs and blue corn chips.