A thirteen hour day, 15 hours if you count transport, with a brief moment to sprawl upon some chairs, limbs completely, utterly relaxed, shoes kicked off, behind you the constant gibbering in Italian, the banging of espresso handles and grinding of coffee, it's not much but it's the best I can do.
Father's Day, we're closed, so the weekend is hectic by way of compensation. Hectic with late tables that breeze in at 9:00, 9:30, hardly late for the restaurant industry but late when you're cleaning up, when you've been there 11 hours already and are dying to go home.
In the brief break this afternoon a couple of local garage sales, early starters, nothing at all which casts a taint over the whole weekend.
And dreams, nothing cohesive, loose bits, sexual but not at all, nude ex girlfriends, the shape of women, strange, always promising myself I'll make notes but always lying in that extra 2 minutes until all the memories are dissolved.
A mountain with a cave, green, following up the side along a path, there's a pagoda and hotel, Japanese style, somewhere near the top, and from the top I should be able to find the cave...but it's getting dark, and having found the inn am tempted to stay and enjoy it's hot tubs (red paper lanterns floating overhead); the hotel, the place, it's beautiful and I'm almost wanting to stay forever....
There are the links between dreams, the feeling that each dream is building on, drawing from another similar dream that I had, and I can never recall if the dream was one that I had before this one, or the memory of an older, recurring dream.
But the dreams, at the moment they're the only escape I have, and for 20 minutes I can hang off the chairs, arms, legs slack, unable to move while the restaurant bangs like a poltergeist all about me.