bad days and bad dreams

So I’m working on some paintings for a show that I have in two weeks, and I did the stupidest thing imaginable. Laden with two heavy grocery bags, my purse, my gym bag, and my work satchel, I turned around a little too closely to a new, nearly finished painting and sent both it and the easel crashing to the garage floor. The painting caught on my shoulder, and the corner of the easel caught it from behind, and tore two nasty rips through the canvas.

Sigh.

I was so mad that I kicked it across the garage floor, face down, and stalked inside. I don’t usually get mad, but what a complete bonehead move. This just proves how incredibly uncoordinated I am.

I am trying to repair it. Hopefully it won’t look too bad. We’ll see. Anyway, this picture is a detail of part of it (part that didn’t rip). I think I’m calling it “Conglomeration.”

Doc had a bad day too — his computer refused to launch Classic or any Classic apps, with a weird error message about missing OpenGL and other resources. It took all morning and most of the afternoon to diagnose and fix the problem. It seems to be working now — had to extract ClassicStartup.app from the system disk, reinstall it, then reupdate the system. What a pain. But at least now EverCrack will run. 🙂

I dreamed last night about having to try to blow up large trucks. I had some remote control device, and I was following four large semi trucks on a highway, and I kept detonating but the blast would always occur just a little too far behind the last truck, because I had to do some weird two-part key press combination on the device. It was like they didn’t know that I was there, or what I was trying to do. Finally, the trucks pulled around into a circle with one in the middle (circling the wagons, kind of), and I was able to sneak in the middle and plant this tiny black plastic device with a white plastic top underneath the Coca-cola truck in the middle, and then sneak off and blow it up remotely. As I pressed the complicated key combination on my keyboard to blow it up, I had these mixed feelings of triumph at having succeeded and horror at having just killed actual innocent people. But it was my job, somehow, and I knew I had to do it.

Then I had to sneak away, and I was apparently in some sort of weird huge gated complex that I had to get out of, like an airport or something. I ran through a spiral parking garage, then joined a long line of people waiting to get into a small shack near the edge of the complex to watch a filmstrip. I was worried about running, that maybe it would look suspicious, but I knew that I could just say that I was running away from the blast and act all worried like I was spreading the alarm. I had a walkie talkie type thing in my hand, that was my remote control detonator, and I was trying to hide it in my hand and act nonchalant like maybe it was just a cell phone or something. Guards were randomly searching people in line, but they passed me up.