Lion and Magic Boy

I was totally going to write about something completely different today, but now I will save that one for another day since I am so damn impulsive and reading this post of Sweetney’s made me remember my dream from last night:

So I’m in my house, and it’s not my house really although I know it’s my house, you know how things can look totally different in dreams yet you know they are actually something else, or something in particular anyway? I used to have a lot of dreams based in the house I grew up in, weird pebbly beige kitchen linoleum, wild green and orange walls and all (hey! it was the 70′s! And we had brown, avocado, and yellow appliances!), but I must have grown up along the way sometime because now my dreams mostly take place in the house I live in presently, whatever house that is, except I seldom had dreams located in the haunted 200-year old farmhouse I lived in for 6 years with The Ex before escaping to Colorado. Hmm. I wonder why? Was it the hauntedness?

ANYWAY. (Will you stop distracting me?) So I’m in my house, some house, and it has pink carpet, I might add! I know this because most of the dream has me looking floorward, and this pink carpet is right. there. looking very, um, pink. It’s not a fuschia, not a pastel pink, but is leaning towards Pepto-Bismol pink, and I have seen carpet this color somewhere but cannot right now put my finger on where. Probably in some other dream.

So there’s a cat litter box there (you were wondering how cat litter figured in this dream, weren’t you?), an open box, and it’s my job to scoop out the chunks and put them in the toilet conveniently placed next to the litter box. (When did that toilet appear? Poof! Don’t you love how you can just make things appear and disappear in dreams? Wouldn’t it be great if we could do that in life?). So I’m scooping, and meanwhile having a conversation with some unseen someone not in camera view, and there appears to be nothing there to scoop so I’m about to give up, when I notice that, no, there are a couple of small chunks in one area, so I scoop them up and drop them in the convenient toilet. Then suddenly there are more chunks, and more, and I’m scooping and dropping, scooping and dropping, and beginning to wonder if this isn’t going to affect the plumbing somehow, because suddenly this has become Not My House and although I’m not sure whose house it is, I know that whoever it is probably won’t want their toilet Roto Rootered because I clogged it up with clumping cat litter.

And I’m wondering about the prodigious output of these two cats (somehow I know there are two), and the clumps just keep appearing and I just keep having to scoop, because I can’t stop now and leave the job half done, you know?

So, the Sisyphus of Cat Litter. What can THAT mean?