excuse me please, where is the exit?

It started with a nightmare that I had moved back into my old house on Hollywood with my ex. It was so realistic and detailed. The long kitchen with the single row of upper cupboards, the spices, the boxes and bags of chips & crackers above the fridge. The square window into the mudroom where I could see my old bike and my old skis. A mental museum of who I used to be. 

It isn't the first time I have had this dream but it was surely the most vivid. And as far as I can remember the other times I was moving in. This time he had done it all for us. The kids were there too, all of them. And oddly, BC's parents; his mom stomping around complaining about all sorts of unimportant things. And it was Christmas. He had decorated the house for Christmas.

In the dream I was thinking, well I don't remember making this decision but everything I need is here so maybe I should just go along with it.....and then I looked at the wooden mantel above the fireplace and I remembered BC. I knew I couldn't give him up but I didn't know how to get out of the whole thing. It all seems so very committed. 

When I woke up late (7:30) I didn't quite know where I was. This happens a lot, I was married to my ex for 11 yrs. I try to feel where the bed is in the room and where the room is in a house and then move to what house is this; who am I with ex or BC? 

It took me a few minutes to slip out of the tightness the dream had set on me and get out of bed. Then I was thinking: I could move my bike into the mudroom, the way I used to keep my bike. I could redo those 2 cupboards in the kitchen to the way I would like them to be. I've wanted to trim some branches for 2 weeks; I should go find the garden shears, bet they are in BC's shop somewhere. Then the thoughts dropped a gear; clean front porch, water the yard, sweep bark back into the plant beds, farmers market, dust, laundry......the scenery in my head to go with all of this: a hiking trail at the top of Millcreek Canyon.   

Under the list of 'take-backs' and chores I could feel the panic of the dream building into the real day. So between spooning pancake batter and grinding coffee I went about finding a phone. Turns out there was one under a blanket on the sofa upstairs. I turned it on and nothing. I turned it off and back on. Still nothing. I looked carefully at the receiver it said: NO LINE.   

I set out to find the issue which meant getting down on the kitchen floor and pulling out the rat's nest of wires (yes, I know and it is the usual suspect) but nothing I plugged and unplugged changed the phones mind. 

It's not the bill or the line into the house but it might be the phone jack behind the big wooden wardrobe. A very unfortunate situation for me. I'm pretty sure I can move it myself (have before), but that is after I take everything out of it. And being the doubting Thomas that I am, I am also pretty sure once I go through all the trouble to get back there it won't be the fix to the phone.

I can admit there is a little bit of a fuck it feeling right now.

A little bit of a calm-slow-soft-panic.
No phone. Does it even fucking matter? Not sure. Normally I would say no one would will even notice. But it might scare my mom who is trying to stop by today to pick up a book for aunt. And then there is the issue of the big meeting with the city I have this week on Thursday; they might want to get a hold of me.

But at least I know where my day is starting: inside the wardrobe.