Woke up feeling really out of sorts today. Age. Feeling like… how did I get here? How did I get so far? It frightens me. I think I hit this wall in my skull when we were watching Camino at Dean’s Credit Clothing the other night and we were talking about how old THEY were, and – well, I was aware that place-in-Life-wise I knew they were OLDER than me – we were talking to them and it turned out that yeah, they were 28 and I went back to the car thinking subconsciously that they were a year or two ahe- and then I realized, no… I was a year or two ahead of THEM. It comes down to the fact that I still think of myself as 25 or so…
Is it a delusion that I can be out on the road like this? Is it stupid? I’m coming to the horrific realization that my own rob-image doesn’t match up with the one that people on the outside see… that I’m older than that, and that that could make it harder and harder for me to relate to people.
Last night I dreamt of my mom’s old dog’s brother, Prince. I dreamt that he was still alive at my Grandfather’s house, and someone told me he was 50 (!) – and then my dreaming brain tried to do the math to figure out how old that made ME and I woke up with a start to find Pica lying on my leg.
I moved my leg. Pica grunted, got up, and came over and lay on my leg.
Sigh. Trapped all around.
