beowabbit: (Me: Looking down on Vermont train)
[personal profile] beowabbit
So last night I made an offer on a condo. I don’t particularly expect it to be accepted, but we’ll see. In retrospect, it probably makes sense to get the sale of the house moved further along before I make any more offers, but this place would be perfect, so I wanted to at least try.

Are any of you familiar with the breakfast cereal Puffins? I introduced [livejournal.com profile] cathijosephine to them, and she later found peanut-butter flavoured Puffins, which I’d never had. So the other day when I went over to her place, she told me we could have peanut-butter Puffins in the morning if we didn’t have pancakes.

The next morning, I woke up, hopped in the shower (where I noticed that she’d put a trimmed piece of shower curtain over the window, but it didn’t quite go all the way down the window), and as I came out of the shower, [livejournal.com profile] cathijosephine handed me a red bowl of peanut-butter Puffins. Happy that I was going to get to find out what they tasted like, I set them down on her laundry machine (a combination washer and dryer in the same unit, which is really nifty because she can just use it as a hamper and push the button when it’s full) while I got ready to leave. But unfortunately we were in a bit of a hurry, and I forgot it until we were on the road. A few times since then I’ve thought of that uneaten bowl of Puffins, feeling mildly guilty over leaving something for [livejournal.com profile] cathijosephine to clean up, and mildly disappointed about not getting to taste the new cereal yet.

Except it never happened. [livejournal.com profile] cathijosephine had told me we might have peanut-butter Puffins the next morning, but we were in too much of a hurry. I didn’t take a shower. The shower-curtain over the window is as I remember it, but the fixtures in the shower are different (as I discovered when I really took a shower there recently). Zeph doesn’t own a bowl like the one she handed me in my memory. Peanut-butter Puffins are more or less rectangular, like regular ones, rather than spherical the way I remember them.

So, this must have been a dream. I even have a pretty good notion of when I might have dreamt it. But the weird thing is that it blended so perfectly and smoothly into the rest of my memory. I thought about it several times over the week, sure that it was real. This makes me wonder what other completely solid memories I have that actually aren’t real — if I’d never thought to mention that forgotten bowl on her counter to Zeph, I’d never have found out this one wasn’t.

(I mentioned it to [livejournal.com profile] cathijosephine in the car the last time I went over to her place, and we had quite an entertaining conversation about whether it was real or not. I more or less accepted her assurance that it had never happened, but I wouldn’t have been surprised to smell the sour milk and see the bowl when we opened the door.)

Later, in bed, as we were laughing over this, she told me “You’re a special kind of crazy.” I’m so lucky that she enjoys that kind of crazy.
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August 2016

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