I dreamed I was having a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. I was rehearsing with my brass octet, and the director was having us buzz particular tones on our mouthpieces, and I knew I was doing it right, but he said I was a full step flat. I tried and tried, and he just kept scolding me, and finally said if I couldn't get it right, I'd be replaced. So I told him, all right, I had to go, and I left.
I kept trying to wake up, but I couldn't. There was dead ivy all over my trumpet, and I went to pull it off, but it was sticky and crunchy and prickly all at the same time. I felt something sting my left hand, and looked down to see a tiny, spiny, green gnat looking thing. When I brushed it off my left hand, it stung my right as well. My hands began to itch and swell, and I hurried home to wash them off, but by the time I got to a sink, my skin and muscle and bones had gone transparent. I could see the veins and arteries and the flushed red of capillaries through the glass clarity of my hands. And as I washed them, the vessels burts and the flesh dissolved, and the sink filled with blood, and I struggled desperately to wake up.
Finally I did wake up, and that was all a dream, and it was time to record the first episode of the new Star Wars miniseries. To do this, we had to hook the kitchenaid mixer with recorder attachments up to the television. But my friend was using the mixer to grind meat. That was fine, though, I explained, as long as we were careful. But then I got called away.
When I got back, the television was flickering and the grinder was getting jammed. My friend hadn't set the mixer for record and operate, and was trying to control the recording with the television remote. At the same time, he'd let the recorder attachment power and receiver cables fall into the bowl, where they were fouling up the grinder blades. By the time I got it all sorted out, the episode was over, and we'd only made a faint recording of about half. The. I finally woke up for real.
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