Sleep

Not every time we sleep do we reach a deep enough state to dream. For weeks my rest has been frequently interrupted and it seemed I’d never dream. After roaming around the house for some time in a half-coherent stupor (a state in which I seem to be able to do little more than care for Jonas and eat), I managed to sleep well in my short rests. It’s as if my body has me sleepwalking consciously during the day so that I may dream when I do sleep.

I dreamt that I was at a convention center for the purposes of an audition. It was for the part of some background character, only a few lines, from a comic or something equally nerdy that was being made into a movie. At the time the dream started, or at least what I recall, I had already finished my audition and was waiting for James to pick me up.

As I waited, I sat upon the service stairs of the multi-tiered interior garden. My elbows were on my knees, my chin in my hands. I lazily looked up as a large man mumbled, “Excuse me,” without pausing his motion to walk past. My eyes returned to the front door as I heard him scuffle behind me in the foliage. He returned the way he came, this time carrying a child’s shoe.

Tired of sitting, I walked the floor of the convention hall, forms and results in my hand, and watched the long lines dwindle. They were taking auditions for multiple parts today. I passed by the line for the part I tried for. I chuckled at the woman struggling to control her four-year-old daughter; the casting directors would not be impressed by her inability to find a baby sitter.

Walking toward the door again, I laughed over what had happened in my audition. I was given a scene to read alongside someone, and a few moments to read it over. After a few lines were read, the casting director told me to stop and handed me a new script. He asked me to read the lines of a main character (not a lead, but still a bigger part). I did as he asked, but after the last line was read, I said, “I thought that part was cast months ago.”

He explained that the person they currently have was being horrid about being cast. She was in a middling part (it was the biggest part she’d ever gotten) but behaved around the set as if she was the indispensable star that would carry the movie by name alone. Everyone was sick of her, and she’d cost more of the budget than they’d wanted due to having to re-shoot so many scenes. Apparently, she’d been purposely flubbing lines as a tactic to get her way.

I agreed to take the part, and assured the director that I had no problems with particular scenes involving the character described in the original work. He hadn’t mentioned it, but I was familiar with the story, and I had assumed that the reason the previous actress thought she couldn’t be replaced was because no one else would want to go through with those scenes. (I do not know any details outside of the dream.)

The flashback was interrupted by my mobile phone ringing. James was outside and he brought lunch. I went out and found the picnic table he was at with Jonas in his car seat.

There was a break in the dream that I did not witness, but involved me telling James the detailed results. It continued when we reached our car in the parking lot. We left, but not before almost being backed into by an orange pickup.

(I typed that all one-handed while holding Jonas.)

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