I dreamt that I’d cut my finger. A vicious chunk pulled out of my right pointer finger. I dreamt that I was still missing a chunk from the powerdrill accident from when I was a kid. I dreamt that’d happened to the same finger. I dreamt the cutouts kept getting caught on the edges of my phone, and I’d forgotten he dream entirely until this afternoon and I tried to put my phone in the little divot in my finger and the divot wasn’t there.
I haven’t been remembering most of my dreams recently. I generally need that jarring sense of misremembered memory for it to come flooding back. And I guess I’m just lucky when the dream damages my hands…
All day I’ve felt tense. Getting worse. Piling on top of me. The edge of a headache. Knots in my stomach. I can feel EVENTS piling up behind my eyes and weighing on my shoulders. Fear of the future. Wars in the Middle East. Political assassinations in Minnesota. The damage and the chaos. I can’t wait to fall into playing tonight. Give me that focus. Give me that distraction.
Friends are waving signs for No Kings Day in a dozen locations, maybe more. We’ll go play our music. Maybe it makes the world a better place? The news simply fills me with dread.