Sunday morning dream

So I am starting to fall asleep, there is a small cat nestled into my back, she is black and white. I am thinking about the need to wax the legs soon.

Soon I am dreaming sorta, I am waxing my legs, my pregnant friend jenifer comes by and starts to help me wax, but soon gets bored and leaves.

So then my living room is morphing and i am walking into the cafe I use to work in, it has since change ownership several times. i walk to the back of the place and there is jenifer, sitting with three older people, dressed in business suits. i say hello to them and then leave the back of the place. When I get to the front of the place, I am in the Life Cafe in NYC. sorta... it feels like life cafe, but still resembled Gila Monster, the cafe i used to cook in.

There is a lounge are and I am alone, except there are a few patrons lounging. I move to one high largish round table. There is some young artsy looking guy sitting at the high round black topped table. and some other guy lounging at a lower table nearby.

I see there is a booth type seat at the table with many pillows and the guy is engrossed reading RICE magazine, a free NYC ZINE that is distribute in my dream NYC. I recognize it in my dream as I recognize that I have dream floated to NYC from the midwest. i have not dream floated in awhile... cool.

Dream floating is when you change locations and are aware that you have traveled in your dream and are in a different city. i have dream floated to Paris before too...

So anyways, dreamfloating is tiring, and I have nowhere to dream crash so I sneak in behind the artsy guy who is dressed in black. and i consciously start to dream in my dream... that is, I fall asleep in my dream in dream NYC in dream LIFE CAFE (a real cafe in the village)

Soon, the TV in the cafe wakes me up enough to notice that the artsy guy is half leaning on me, he thinks I am one of the pillows, he is still engrossed in the RICE magazine, which I seem to be familiar with even though I dreamed it, I seem to remember reading it when i lived in the East Village.

So then I fall back asleep in my dream and when i wake up again, the artsy guy is laying across my back and is dozing off himself. i stir and wake him, which wakes me up (no really, i wake up and then wake up... and see the sunset pink walls of my real bedroom) Damn, I think close your eyes and go back to NYC!!!

Soon i am back in the lounge area and am telling artsy guy goodbye as he is embarrassed that he fell asleep on me.

And then? i am soon in the area of NY that I always end up in.
Big tall re brick building is to my left and up a few blocks, the squats (not the good kind, the squalor kind) are in the vicinity I think, but I have not been dream there in awhile. this time I am in industrial NYC area, things have changed, now there are police patrols everywhere, but not the neighborhood beats that all new yorkers love, these are some 1984 Orwellian type cops, and I am behind the scenes, like the diamond wearing ladies are on the streets and I am behind tall grey buildings that are all connected into one big building and there are slots cut out for dumpsters.

Then I see the women. They are in grey drab work dresses and kerchiefs over their heads, and they are there to work with the trash of high society. It is there job to make sure the trash areas are immaculate, rat free and swept all trash in the large dumpsters.

I notice they are all brown skinned women, Indian, Hispanic, Afrocentric too, but no white skin, none. And I realize that I am in a place where only the workers go, and that the police are patrolling to make sure the workers are in their places and not on the streets, I realize the workers are not the reason the police are patrolling, they are looking for the criminals, and the workers are just a class above criminal.

What kind of fucked up version of NYC is this? I wonder, but soon realize it is the future, not too distant.

The women look at me with silent eyes. They notice that I am not a bitch and so ignore me. I wish that I could speak with them, but I know from the tone of the place that they mustn't stop working and that to speak with me would be breaking some kind of silent rule.

I am ready to wake up now, I think as I stoop to pick up a large tear shaped brown jewel, and as I do I spy another slightly smaller red ruby, also tear shaped. rounded cabochon cut. I pick them up and put them in my pocket. The leftover trash of the city is jewels.