Speed Raps

This week I've developed with newfound regularity the habit of waking up to my alarm, thinking about what I should do (i.e. my morning routine), then falling back asleep and dreaming through the whole routine. This leaves me quite confused when I wake up again. Usually the dreams intersperse the routine with other typical dream material. One night this week, it was a concert featuring conducting by Evgeny Kissen, a famous pianist, and rapping by Speed Levitch. After his performance, Speed came over and talked to me. Since I had last seen him he had grown to a monstrous height, at least seven feet. As he towered over me Speed showed me his collection of hats and visors by pulling them out of nowhere one at a time and putting them on. I was going through my morning routine this whole time.

The next night, I was trying to photograph two goats who were lying next to one another in a cute pose that looked sort of drunken, and they happened to be in front of two giant bottles of some alcoholic beverage. I was using my digital camera. When I tried to press the button, I couldn't find where it was, and when I finally found it, there was a bad noise that definitely did not indicate a picture being taken. Meanwhile one of the goats had taken a giant bottle of alcohol in its mouth and was taking swigs from it, adding to my frustration that the camera wasn't working. Someone nearby suggested that my film was stuck. Somehow this didn't seem like a contradiction, so I opened the back and sure enough I hadn't wound the film forward enough. I did and closed it back up. Of course the goats had gone away.

* * *

Today was one of those days that makes one feel as if comments about how strange and wacky things are in other countries are quite meaningless, because often things just as strange are found here. It was "employee appreciation day' for the hospital, which meant a special free lunch for us. But apparently employees need something more than just that to feel appreciated, because they had hired people to make it a theme party, the theme decidedly being a mix of about 70 percent 1960s and 30 percent 1970s. There were people dressed up as Austin Powers and a Fembot, lots of "groovy" wall hangings and furniture, lava lamps, and a DJ playing disco music. The Austin Powers guy had some serious work to do on his accent, but he had the mannerisms down. The Fembot assaulted us with psychedelically colored handkerchiefs, and berated us for not having breastpockets to put them in. Inside there was a lot of shouting to keep moving through the food line. Then in the middle of that a guy walked up to one of my coworkers and presented him with a survey about whether or not he liked the party's "Seventies theme" and how appreciated he felt. On the way out I was again accosted by the Fembot, who was actually at least 55 years old, and told to put my crazy handkerchief around my head. Well I sure feel appreciated.

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