But in the morning I woke up and found my house was bright

I awoke from a dream this morning that left me feeling a little melancholy. All I remember from it is arriving home, the sun shining brightly, and encountering multiple people, friends and friends of friends, working on several different projects (painting, staining, etc.). Everyone was in a good mood. Even Rich, who is low key even at his happiest, was animated to the point of exuberance. It was a nice scene to walk into. So why so sad? I suspect it has to do with what happened earlier on in the dream, the content of which I don't remember. Maybe for the best. So here I am now, doing my best to shake the cobwebs off of me.

Speaking of Rich, I just walked in on him as he slept. Our wireless router is in his room and when we lose our Internet connection it needs to be reset. This means either having him do it, or doing it ourselves if he's not present. I went downstairs and knocked on his door. It was a good, solid, knock. No response. To be sure, I knocked again; I didn't want to walk in on him doing anything.....unseemly. I waited a minute or two longer and knocked again, this time calling his name as I did. No response. All right, then, I'm going in.

I opened the door and was about halfway in the room when I saw a quilt-covered lump on his bead. Vaguely, I noticed I had a Sir Richard Attenborough type of narrative broadcasting in my head. The Rich, native to the north east region of the United States, often sleeps late into the day. It prefers to do so on its side, wrapped tightly in a quilt or blanket.

I backed slowly out of his room. It is best not to disturb a sleeping Rich. If startled, they may lash out, and the consequences could be severe. I closed his door and wondered why he didn't hear the loud knocking and his name being called. The morbid side of me wondered if he was dead. It's possible, but I think he's alive. Anyway, if he's dead, it may be for a while until we know for sure. You know, because of the smell of decay. Anyway....

I was scheduled for a run today, but I'm going to follow the lead of God, and rest. It is the sabbath, readers. It's been so hot and humid the last couple of days. I went for a run after work on Friday and the second half of it was brutal. It took almost every ounce of my will to complete it. Today looks to be even hotter and more humid. I don't want to kill myself out there. Janelle would be short two roommates(I'm starting to really believe Rich is dead. Maybe I should go hold a mirror to his face).

Last night, Spira and I went to check out the ArtBeat festival that's been going on in Davis Sq. this weekend. We arrived too late. The street sweepers were in effect and all the booths and tables were gone. We were looking forward to sampling some good food, but, alas, we were shit out of luck. We had MissyTthe Dog with us, so we couldn't eat in inside somewhere. We opted for Mr. Crepes, which is always, I say always, a good time. There, we were able to eat outside. People walking by stopped and petted Missy The Dog. Some asked if it was ok, some didn't. I like knowing there are a lot of dog lovers out there.

After we ate, Spira wanted ice cream, so I waited outside JP Licks with Missy The Dog while she waited in line. We walked around the little plaza. We listened to a guy performing a set of mostly Neil Young covers. He didn't have a great voice, but his singing was impassioned. He did a ragged, but pretty, version of Harvest Moon, a song that always gets me. Multiple people approached me and asked if they could pet Missy the dog. She loved the attention. I hatched a plan to borrow her every so often for the purpose of meeting women. Hey, I've got to try something, right?

Listening to one of my favorite albums. It's a collection of songs, or more devotionals, by Marquis de Tren and Bonnie Prince Billy, called Get On Jolly. It is one of the warmest, spiritually-nourishing, and beautiful albums I've ever heard. From Allmusic's review:

Credited to Marquis de Tren and Bonny Billy, Get on Jolly is performed by Will Oldham along with Dirty Three member and Tren Brother Mick Turner. With words adapted from Gitanjali by Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941), a Nobel Prize-winning poet from India, Oldham sings in a somber, yet expressive mode, giving an air of sacredness to the effort. Turner's low-key accompaniment, meanwhile, provides a loose, meandering minor-key backdrop.



Today, I will work on music. I will also read from The Eye of the World, a book I've read a couple of times already, but it's so good on so many levels that it's always fresh. And, you know what? I may go into Davis Sq. and see myself a little Inception. Failing that, I may watch The Assassination of Jesse James.... We'll see.