You can check in once you’ve fallen sleep. Check out time? In your dreams, of course.
Don’t forget to tip the bellman. It’s not our blogger buddy The Hook, but rather, the scary man with the burned face, tattered sweater, and the glove of blades.
You know who I’m talking about, right?
He’s around here somewhere. Or maybe he’s sneaking into some of the guests’ rooms to make sure they are sound asleep.
Oh, there he is over there…
Of course, it began as most of my nightmare do…with me desperate to get my ex-wife not to divorce me.
Again, why this is a recurring nightmare boggles my brain. We’ve been divorced over a decade, we never talk, and I have no interest in being with her again.
As a screenwriter, though, I have to appreciate Krueger’s use of the frightening antagonist to create conflict. The instigating event of my getting divorced and thrown out on the street to fend for myself really does propel the story forward.
Nice work, Freddy. Could there be a Best Original Screenplay Oscar in your future?
I now lived in a long narrow space, and the only furniture was a bed that also served as a couch and work area, a couple of lamps, and an old school TV set with no cable.
One door opened right out onto the street, so Cali and Luna, my beloved kitties who somehow made this dream journey with me, kept getting outside. I was constantly running out after them to keep them from being forever lost in the unknown city in which I now lived.
The other two doors opened into the hotel lobby and the hotel bar. Celebrities, who frequented this freaky establishment for some reason, used my living space as a short cut to avoid the crowds in the lobby to get to the bar unnoticed.
They didn’t care that they were barging into my apartment uninvited, or that the constant opening of the doors gave the cats another chance to escape and vanish.
Once he found out I was a screenwriter, he hired me to write scripts for the various stars who traipsed through my spartan quarters on the way to get liquored up in the bar. A bar that I never got to visit.
I was intent on writing a great screenplay, hitting it big in Hollywood, and then using that success to win back my ex-wife.
Well played, Freddy.
Well played indeed.
I’m fairly certain my nightmare was caused by events of the evening that left me convinced that it was my destiny to spend the rest of my life alone.
Love continues to elude me, and yesterday was the birthday of The Girl Who Moved Away. I try very hard not to think about her or mourn her anymore.
The Archangel, who is based upon her, never visits the blog anymore, and I rarely mention her in posts.
However, I’m not a robot. I cannot just turn off my heart at will. With yesterday being her special day, she was on my mind and in my heart.
And Freddy took advantage of it to pay me a visit.
Robots, especially those who will enslave mankind during the Robot Apocalypse, have no emotions. There are no hearts that can be broken.
Robots do not feel pain.
Robots cannot compute what it means to be alone.
I, on the other hand, can feel a lot of things…
I really should have stayed home from work, but I was afraid I’d just fall back asleep and have another nightmare.
Needless to say, I was a little out of it today.
At one point, I tried to order an MRI without Brain.
What I really wanted was a Brain MRI without Contrast.
I needed to show my body who was boss, and I thought the cold air would wake me up and get my day off to a great start.
Somewhere Freddy is laughing maniacally at the chaos he’s caused in my life.
I think Freddy and Cupid are working together against me. Anytime someone who alters the beat of my heart presents herself, there’s a massive roadblock between me, her, and true love.
This time, the devious plan is something entirely new. Let’s put half a world between Austin and the incredible woman who has unexpectedly caused the butterflies to flutter in his tummy again.
Let’s see how this scenario will crush his spirit and shatter his heart. She seems to be everything he wants in a partner, aside from living on another continent twelve time zones away. It’s like an epic romance tale, only the leading man is a total, hopeless dork.
Apparently, at the Hotel Krueger, the nightmares continue during the waking hours…