I had my first nightmare since the fire last night. I'm not surprised that it took this long – I'm poor at remembering dreams in the first place, and my success rate drops as my stress levels increase. In the dream, I was in my apartment (in the present day form), and everything was wet and molding. The floorboards were sinking around the support beams, so I had to channel my inner gymnast and walk as if I was on a balance beam in order to traverse my living room. I was making my way from the corner of my living room to the other corner, where my bookcase was. On top of the bookcase was the mahogany-finished jewelry box that my mom gave me for Christmas a few years ago. I was trying to get to the box in order to grab the twisted gold necklace that once belonged to my maternal grandmother. It was the very same necklace that I wore on that date to see Adaptation around Christmas of my 2nd year of college. Everything in the apartment was creaky, wet, and sagging. It was so stuffy that I could barely breathe. Even though I was treading very lightly, the soft floorboards started giving way. I wasn't able to get to the bookcase.
People have been asking whether I will get a chance to see if any of my stuff can be salvaged. In this regard, I know about as much as you do. The tenants have not been let back into the building since we were evacuated. It is unclear if we will ever be let back in. It is also unclear whether we will have a chance to go through the debris if we are not let back in. One thing is certain: whether we are ever given a chance to sort through the remains of our stuff or not, most if not all of it is damaged beyond repair. I'm not holding my breath.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
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