Several things are happening at once. I have to take my dog in for a license, and I need to get to a class to see the prof and let him know why I haven’t been to class, so I can still get credit for it. Attendance is not necessary, but I have to let him know why and get him to sign a paper. I am thinking he will be able to tell I’ve been sick and unable to attend.
I am running late for school. (University) I also have a doctor’s appointment at 2 pm, so will have to leave school early. But I need an excuse for that, and can’t find anyone to write it. I really only need an excuse for one class, but now that I’m running late, I am considering just staying home all day, even maybe skipping the doc appointment. I am in my car, driving toward the University, and also thinking through driving to town for the doctor appointment, how complicated it would be, time wise, wondering how many classes I might miss, wondering if it matters. I decide to go home. If I need an excuse, it may as well be for both of them.
I walk into an apartment, my apartment. I am 30-something, with a man, a companion. As we pass through the entryway, a small red flash of color catches my eye. I realize it is a tiny spy camera placed high up on the wall.
I pull my companion into the apartment, into my arms in a hug, and whisper in his ear that there is a spy camera in the entryway, and therefore likely in the rest of the apartment too. It doesn’t occur to me to wonder why, but I need him to know, so he doesn’t say anything that would give us away.
I am walking in a local village, St-Prex, where I first lived when moving to Switzerland. I notice some construction work going on inside an old building. Apparently they are renovating apartments inside. As I watch, I suddenly remember that I had signed a contract of pre-purchase on one of the apartments. I feel panicky, wondering if it binds me to purchase, and if so, what to do.
It’s late, around 11:30 pm, and Marcel drops by. Apparently he is waiting for a phone call on Skype, something important. I’m not happy and he can see it, but I let him come in.
He has brought a bottle of Scotch with him, and he pours us each a drink. We talk awhile, no phone call. I ask him if he’s sure about the call, he says yes. I tell him if he hasn’t gotten the call by midnight, he must leave. He says he understands. Midnight arrives, and I tell him he has to leave.
I am in an old apartment building, a kind of squatter’s place. We (myself and several other tenants) have been informed of the destruction of the building, and must leave as soon as possible. I go through packing what I can, mostly grabbing my computer stuff and some souvenirs. I get as much into my car as I can – it is at the edge of a store parking lot. It’s parked up parallel to a fence, in a deserted corner where it will be safe. I add several boxes of my things between the car and the fence, so they will be out of sight. I must now go to the grocery store and get groceries.
I am in a small apartment in some kind of temporary way house. There are at least 2 large rooms, very little furniture, and the place is run down and filthy. Someone is with me, as I comment to them about it. The carpet is ragged, there are even sprouts of something pushing up in the corners. I can’t imagine why the previous tenants didn’t clean it up – it must have been like this for ages, and no one bothered.