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Dreamed I was in a town where I had once lived. I was flying a model airplane, a glider. It did not have an engine. As I was playing with the plane, it got caught in an updraft and was swept upwards, high above the buildings. I ran along the streets following its path. I was in a neighborhood of tall old houses many of which had been converted into apartments.

I watched as the plane veered over one old building and landed on a rooftop patio. I found myself standing at the foot of the building. There was a long set of stairs that led upwards to a door. As I looked at the building, I realized that I had lived there at one time. A woman came out of a downstairs door and I asked her if Todd still lived in the upstairs apartment. She indicated that he did live there, but was not home.

I asked if it would be permissible for me to go up and retrieve my airplane even though he wasn't there. She thought it would be OK. I rushed up the stairs, opened the door, and started up another set of stairs that led to the roof. Along the way, I kept seeing familiar objects--things that I had seen before when I lived in the downstairs apartment. At some point, I got sidetracked by the objects and forgot my original purpose of retrieving the airplane.

I awoke while I was still in Todd's apartment looking at the various familiar objects.

I'm not sure if I ever actually knew anyone named Todd that had lived in the same building with me. I seemed to recall a face of a man named Ted when I spoke of Todd in the dream. But, I also didn't ever live in the same building with Ted. In fact, I can only recall Ted's face at this time, but nothing specific about him or who he was.

The woman in the lower apartment seemed familiar, but I don't even recall her face now. In the dream, her face seemed clouded or misty--not clear or defined.
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Went to dance class tonight. No parking spaces at the dance place. People are having too much fun. They're going out each night to the many events at the rec centers and ignoring their duties to stay home and watch TV.

Read a Stephen King story this afternoon. He's amazing. The story was rather long for a piece of short fiction, but I couldn't stop reading and didn't want it to end when it did. He's such an accomplished story teller and writer. The piece just flows and yet is dark and foreboding. You know something bad/weird is going to happen, but you don't have a handle on it until it's on you, all over you, and you're buried in the horror. Probably won't be a comparable story in the collection. Maybe the one by Oates. Will see.

Moving and getting a stable living place continues to be foremost in my thoughts. Need to resolve that issue soon so I can get on with things and stop treading water. Let there be dreams of places for me to live. Dreamtime in overtime. Drop the dream places all over me.