Unicorns. All the video games in the world. The ability to fly. Hitler in a tutu singing theme songs of 80's sitcoms. These are the things that dreams are made of. Stef went to bed last night at at 7 after a tiring day. While she was dreaming of Almond Roca-paved streets, I was hunched over the computer, fervently typing code for a friend's website. After a grueling day spent verifying table cell widths and CSS properties, I was ready for dreamland at 10. But I didn't get to hit a home run in the bottom of the ninth, save the world from the jellyfish men or miss every three-point shot while my teeth fell out. Not at 10, anyway.
We're moving to a house in town that's got more rooms and more privacy. Yesterday, an electrician from another island came to our apartment to remove our air-conditioner and install it in the new house. No longer able to enjoy cool air in the apartment, we tried to compensate by spreading the hot air around with an oscillating fan. I tossed and turned from 10 until about 12, when I finally got on the escalator to dreamland. An escalator to nowhere!
I was awakened by the sound of Kelsey whimpering. Stef and I moved the porta-crib from Kelsey's room into ours, and she went back to bed--for a few seconds. Suddenly, she started groaning again. Stef got up and soothed her with a soft back rub. Every time Stef took her hand away, Kelsey cried. It wasn't clear if Kelsey was awake, but Stef thinks she might have had her first nightmare. I can see it now: dancing and twirling around in a land of plentiful toast, where the juice flows like water, and every wall and window is a TV with an endless loop of Finding Nemo. Without warning, the toast disappears. Water flows like water. Nemo runs away with another fish (..and his name was Lamar!).
Lucky for me, Stef was willing to help Kelsey through her rough night. I boarded the slow train to bliss and eventually made it there. As I enjoyed my bottomless rootbeer float in heaven, I started sinking into the clouds. The sky abruptly opened and I torpedoed back to Earth.
"Wake up!" Stef said. It's 7:45 and you have to leave for work in a half-hour. Crap. I felt like I could have slept for another hour. In a daze, I hurriedly showered, threw my clothes on, and wolfed down a bowl of corn flakes. I heard a ferry horn in the background, which was odd for that time. I thought that I had heard a coworker say yesterday that most people wouldn't be at work today. Maybe that horn was for some special kind of ferry, like one that had come during the week from another island. A half-hour later, I remembered that it was Thursday, and that I had to take the non-burnable trash to the trash plant. Three massive bags festered on our little back porch. The next day for non-burnables was next Tuesday. Tuesday was not an option.
I jumped into my shoes, gave Kelsey a kiss, loaded the trash bags onto a dolly, and started running to the trash center (which is in the opposite direction of the town hall, where I'm working). I tossed the bags into the disposal truck and walked briskly past the apartment, throwing the dolly against the fence as I passed. A few minutes later, as I neared the town hall, I glanced up at the town clock to see how late I was. Being late is much worse in Japan than in America. People really look down on you for it. It was :28 after, so I was looking okay. I turned the corner and walked through the automatic doors at the town hall, and greeted the only other person there. "Nobody's here today, eh?" I asked, assured that I had understood what my coworker said the day before. "Oh, they're all coming in today, my coworker said. At 8:30. It's 7:30 right now."
When I opened the unlocked door to our apartment, Stef jumped. I ignored her quizzical look and approached her. I pointed to the clock, my head tilted to the side and my eyes staring off into nothingness. "I'm so sorry!" Stef said. "I swear I thought it was an hour earlier!" So that's how she gets me to take out the garbage. John Wayne will just have to wait until tonight to twirl that red-licorice lasso while riding through the sky on a twinkie.
