3:26pm. Home from the dentist's office. I had to get my tooth pulled. It was badly infected. Thankfully it was way in the back. Now though I have to get an implant to go where the tooth was. This is not interesting, I'm just keeping you caught up on the day to day of my life. Much of my life is not interesting. Some of it is though.
Well, I had a really good nap. Remember I said I had a lot to do this weekend? It's not going to get done. That's how it is. A plan is just a plan. Sometimes life has something else in store for us.
I was in a film, Mary. Yes, really. It is a documentary about poets in Los Angeles. The screening is today. It starts in about thirty minutes in Inglewood. I'm not going to make it. My lip is still numb. My absent tooth is still hurting and I'm hungry and can't eat. I'll have to miss this one. The name of the project, if you're interested, is Writer's Block. Maybe you already know about this. Maybe there is nothing new I can tell you.
Oh, so I woke to describe a dream to you that I had last night. I don't know why I didn't remember to do it this morning. I dreamt about iron skillets. There were a few of them large, medium and small. They were old and rusted. There was a voice telling me how to clean the skillets and make them like new. Was that you? Whoever it was was in my home and we were at my sink in one part of the dream. In another we were outside in a garden where I found the skillets. I don't know what any of that means. I'm not even much of a cook. What does the dream mean? Do you even have a clue? Who was speaking to me? I'm taking what I can get from you. I asked for dreams about us conversing at the bank of a river and instead I get rusted cookware. It's ok though. Maybe it's all important. Maybe none of it is.