Dreaming

Paul had to get up at four in the morning in order to catch his train back to DC and pick up his day. I had set my alarm for him and when it went off, I got up to hit the snooze bar and then pad back to bed to snuggle with him.

But I had a dream in my head. I lay there for a moment, grasping at it, then apologized to him. If I didn't get up and write it down, I'd lose it completely. I had already lost the first part of it.

Where my recollection begins, I'm in a high-rise hotel. I may work there; I have something on wheels that I'm pushing. I'm asked to deliver some pills to a guest by one of the hotel employees.

I look at the pills in my hand and I recognize two of the medications that I'm taking: Combivir and Diflucan, one of my anti-virals and the anti-fungal. None of the others are actually recognizable to my waking mind, but I knew they all HIV medication. I sort them through them, making that realization. There are about thirty pills in all.

I turn to the elevator; the thing that I'm pushing is a child's stroller. The doors to the elevator are open and another man enters as I do. We're on the sixteenth floor, and I press the button for the eighteenth, which is my destination, but he presses a lower floor before I press my button, and the elevator heads down.

I press more buttons, trying to hit a button before the elevator reaches that floor so I can exit and catch another elevator going up, but I'm unsuccessful. The other man exits the elevator, but other people have boarded, and the elevator continues to descend.

I remember one of them was a handsome black man with his hair in dreads, dressed nicely with pants that really showed off his ass. He and another man are nearly closed in the elevator doors.