April 21, 2015

My mom and I were walking out of our house and down a large set of stairs. We were heading to a family dinner but when we got to the door of our destination, she told me to go back to the house and get her hat as she had forgotten it in her car. The hat was a neon green beanie. “Well, I’ll need the keys right?” I asked. She insisted that I did not need any keys to get into the house and that I just needed to show my ID. “Oh, so there’s always a security guard there?” I asked in response. She answered with a terse “yes”.

I had gotten to the reception desk/security booth of an apartment complex and the guard immediately recognized me. “Hey, you’re [x]’s son right?” I told him that I was and was let in. However I did not know what floor I was supposed to go to and expressed this complication to the guard.

I was in someone else’s flat and there seemed to be a celebration of some sort. The walls were a strong turquoise. I told someone that I wasn’t sure if my family lived on the “12th, 13th, 14th, or 11th floor.” He asked why this would be a problem and I answered that it was because we used to move around a lot and tended to stick to certain floor numbers. “Well, I never buy that many houses unless I can manage them all” was his only reply. I sat down on a blue chair and simply listened to everyone else speak.

Someone was trying to entice people into eating “carrot sprouts” which were essentially tiny, crunchy, and heavily seasoned carrot snacks. My chair was constantly being pulled to the wall away from the conversation and a voice asked “Do you like using the bathroom?”. I dragged myself and my chair back to the table every time but seemed to always lose track of which cup on the table was mine.