You know sometimes how a simple home repair, say, like replacing a leaky pipe, which should take, oh, maybe a couple hours, turns into the home repair from hell which finds you cutting the paneling of a section of wall from floor to ceiling, and then cutting through plaster and lathe, and then cutting away boards that you have no idea why they are there except in the old days things were built solidly to last, never mind the fact that the house was built in 1860, and the plumbing went in long after? And then you are on the second floor following that pipe by pulling up a commode and pulling up floor boards and then pulling up more and more floor boards as you try to follow where that pipe will finally end up? And then you have to remove the whole pipe, section by section, because you don't really have a lot of room to work? And repeat trips to Lowe's. At one point, I am holding one fitting and explaining to the man that I need another fitting just like this, only female, and oh, yes, I also need a galvanized nipple. Without blinking he said, "How long?" and I said, "Good gravy I don't even know what a galvanized nipple is, let alone how long I need it." And so he called my husband because we only have one cell phone which was in Tim's pocket. But I digress. What was I saying? Oh. Yes. You know how sometimes you have those home repairs that you begin thinking "Oh, this is going to take a couple hours," but six hours later, you've finally got the pipe replaced with pex tubing, and you've still got to put the second story bathroom back together because the tenant cannot be without a bathroom. (Thank goodness she was away for almost the entire afternoon as it was). So then you put the bathroom back together, and finally, at 9 PM, you are finally able to head out the door, where interestingly enough there are three police cars two houses down and someone is being taken away in handcuffs, which leads you to fret a little about how your newest tenant, just moved in that day is taking all this banging and clanging in the walls, and floors being hammered in place next door and police busts out front. Boy. I'll bet she's just glad she moved into our apartment. You know how some days are just like that?
It's been a long day. Tim worked hard and I held lights, and held on to pipe wrenches with all my might, and I ran up and down two flights of stairs to fetch this thing or that.
When I fell into bed tonight, I thought 'the only good thing about some days is that they end.' I fell asleep. I dreamed that I was lying in bed, wide awake, next to my husband who was angry at me. I got up and went down an open staircase to a library. It was a huge library with lots of books, and my husband came down to see what I was doing, and I looked square at him and told him that I thought he was the most selfish person I knew. Even as I was telling him, he was headed out the door, and up the stairs back to bed. I turned and went the other way into a huge open hall, with a huge fireplace, and atop the mantle a huge tall mirror flanked by two narrower mirrors not so tall. Everything looked shimmery and blurry and I realized that I was still wearing my reading glasses. As I took them off, two large black dogs came running up to see me, laughing like dogs laugh, tails wagging furiously. I petted them both and told them how glad I was to see them, while they pressed in closely, and finally knocked me to the floor in their enthusiasm. I was laughing right along with those happy dogs, as they crowded in to lick my face.
I woke up in agony. My shoulder is bad tonight. I got up, put on my bathrobe and headed downstairs for some drugs, wondering why I would have dreamt such a dream. Freud would have a good time with that one. I realize also that the husband I was so angry at (and who was so angry at me) was not the husband I have now. That makes me glad. I marvel that the dream seemed so real that I could feel the dogs' breath on face.
The point of this? I have no clue. Except the drugs are kicking in, and I need to negotiate my own stairs and head back to my own bed while I still can.