In my dream I had agreed, under some duress, to marry a woman I barely knew. I didn’t know if we would be living in NYC or London. I thought, with regret: this eliminates the West Coast. I said to her: I’ve promised you a lot. I felt out of control, trapped. When I told my father, he was quite surprised that I’d broken my vows. In her flat, there was a team of painters, the walls had been painted white over blue and looked grey. The toilet had overflowed onto the bathroom floor which was carpeted and disgusting. In London, she said, we pay for our own housing repairs. It’s in the housing code.
Later this morning, on the Diane Rehm show, a commissioner of HUD (Housing and Urban Development), from some state that I didn’t catch, called in to fume at one of DR’s guests, who had said the first thing he would eliminate from the budget was HUD. She said: When did Ayn Rand take charge of the government? Soon, we’re going to be swatting beggars off our windshields.
I was pretty impressed with her comments. I wondered if my dream was just another way of seeing what deep shit we are in. I hope I don’t break my vows, whatever they are.