Haunted in Dreams by the Caller ID.
June 25, 2009
Do you remember caller IDs? Well, it’s not like they’ve gone away, but they’ve become so ubiquitous that we don’t single them out as a technology in our lives anymore. They’re expected. Back when I was 18, though, they were still notable enough to be the subject of a dream and therefore, a journal entry. Also, I wish I was in Lake Powell right about NOW.
7/21/99
I did not sleep much last night. I woke up cold. I woke up thirsty. I woke up sore. I woke up missing a friend. I still remember what I had dreamt just before waking up the last time:
I was home. In my mind, I was thinking I was home from Lake Powell, but the thoughts were confusing. I remember wanting to check the Caller ID. The one in the kitchen was gone. I did not want my dad to see me check the other one. Then—scene change, as is so often in dreams—I knew someone was looking over my shoulder. I could not turn to see who, but felt their presence. All I could see was a blue screen. Not what most caller IDs look like, I know. But there I was, looking over the past days’ callers. I searched for one name in particular. I could not stop myself from doing this although my logic told me I ought to. However, it was not there.
A little more dreaming and I woke up. Still in Lake Powell, still sore, still thirsty, but warm under a thin sheet and one cover.
