I dreamed I went to a party where telling people your dreams wasn't an instant conversation killer.

I was with Former Domestic Partner (henceforth FDP) driving back from a concert or play or something in Monterey, headed towards home in Martinez. It was dark, the freeways were poorly lit, and crowds of people dressed in dark fabric were wandering on the lanes. I took a wrong turn that brought us to a dead end lined with body shops and auto junkyards. "I know how to get back to the freeway," said FDP from the back seat. "Put her in reverse."

So, yeah, I put her in reverse, and we were barrelling along at around 40 miles an hour, and I couldn't see a thing because I was facing forward, not that turning around would have helped, since it was pitch black. I felt a nasty lurch as something fell out of the bottom of the car. There may have been a noise as well, but I don't tend to dream with audio for some reason.

Next thing I knew I was in the lobby of a hotel that was either the Disneyland Grand Californian, or the Overlook. My friend Mike A walked over to me and dropped a handful of broken belts and hoses in my lap. "Look what came out of your car," he said. "We'll be stuck here for weeks now!"

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so the lessons from the dream are:

1. Acting on advice from FDP always leads to disaster, and always will. He died 9 years ago but the principle is sound.
2. I took my car to the shop for regular maintenance today, so I was prepping for possible bad news.
3. Nobody at Disney had seen the Shining when they designed that hotel, had they?

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Today is the second day of my new post-employment life, and I have sworn to blog, just as I blog when I travel -- because this is a journey, fill in new age tree huggy BS here. Problem is, nothing really bloggable has happened yet. I did see a number of reviewable things over the weekend, but that's before the New Age began, barely. But a stupid dream? I can always blog that. And will.

I keep my composure and I am proud of that, though my voice takes on an edge.

Two chores today -- first, taking my beloved Soul to the Concord Kia dealership for her slightly overdue minor-maintenance. Yes, there's a nail in the left front tire, and they fix that, so I happily drive back to Castro Valley, for my second chore, depositing my last paycheck to my bank account.

Said paycheck seems to be in my blue backpack, which I had left at the dealership waiting room.

Okay, second time I drive from Concord to Castro Valley, and bring the @#$^@#@! debit card into the bank, & ask them to transfer the contents into my checking account. The teller runs the card, and it comes back DECLINED. "Sorry," she says, "we can't even try again for another 24 hours."

Outwardly my normal smiling, gentle self, I go back to my car & call the debit card company's customer service line. It's 2AM in Bangalore but the young lady, whose fake WASPy name I don't recall, seems alert enough. Apparently the card was declined because, instead of a cash transfer, the teller had done a cash advance, and they have a limit on cash advances, well less than the paycheck value.

Tomorrow, three chores!