Dressed Up As Myself

I had a dream last night about Robin Williams. Specifically, that I was having an affair with Robin Williams. An interesting prospect, particularly because I’ve never found myself the least bit attracted to him. Then again, sense of humor is the most important thing I look for a member of the opposite sex and he is a funny guy. Maybe he’s a stand-in for all funny guys. The fact that he’s older is probably significant in my dream as well. I was feeling particularly rootless yesterday and longing for the comforts of home, part of me wishing I had never agrees to all this craziness. And perhaps my unconscious mind took over the tripping trails of logic to lead me to sex with Robin Williams. LOL… I think I can actually figure it out too. Because one of the things I’ve felt regret over in the past is not taking the opportunity of fooling around with Rosso. A good-looking, funny older man. And 2,000 miles is a pretty good way of making sure it will never happen.

Of course, I didn’t think it was all that likely anyway. I might have actually done it before I was married, especially around the time I was in his classes, but after it was just wishful thinking. Even had the opportunity presented itself in some chance encounter, I doubt I would have acted on it. It’s just that one of the little games I used to play in my head was to keep my eyes open for Rosso when I went out and ran my errands, creating little scenarios in my head about what we would say and how I might feel seeing the object of my crush again. But now I’m in a city where I don’t know anyone except Alan and I guess me and my unconscious are both feeling a little bereft. And all of this somehow leads to sex dreams involving Robin Williams. Weird.

I told Alan the Robin Williams part, but didn’t mention the whole torrid affair/sex thing. He probably doesn’t need to know that I picture other guys during sex. Not that I’ve ever pictured Robin Williams, but why let him think that I’m anything but 100% focused on him? It might open up the whole conversation about who I actually do picture, which is not a conversation I want to have. After all, do I really want to know that he’s imagining me as Scarlett Johansson? Honestly, I’ve been less attracted to Alan since he’s gotten into this whole Army thing. For one, I really hate his hair. LOL! Part of it is probably mental, because to me the buzz-cut represents a type of person I don’t really like. And when he wears anything punkish, it makes him look like a skinhead. Hate that. I also think that I resent him a little for how uprooted I feel. After all, I wouldn’t have moved 2,000 miles from my home if it weren’t for him. And I just wasn’t all that ready to leave yet.

::sigh:: I don’t know. It’s nice having Alan around again. I did miss that a lot, but it’s a huge change and there’s no one for me to take my frustrations out on except him.

Right now I am sitting in the window in our bedroom at our new apartment. It doesn’t feel like home yet, but I do like this particular spot. One of the major reasons that it doesn’t feel like home is the lack of furniture. All of our stuff is in storage for the next couple weeks. See, the woman from the moving company called on Thursday and left a message on Alan’s voicemail that our things had arrived in Colorado and were we able to receive them. I called her back and left a message on her voicemail to call me on my cell phone. Two hours later I hear from Alan again that she’s called again and that if we can’t take our stuff that day, we have to set up a time when we can. He tried to call her back and by the time he actually got a hold of her, it was too late for them to do it that day. When he asked we could actually get it, the earliest available delivery was July 8th. WTF!? So because this woman doesn’t answer her phone or return calls we have to wait another two weeks for our furniture? I have some serious grievances to file on that one.

I miss Zach. That seems kind of stupid since I hardly ever saw him. We really only texted, and sometimes he would call. He called while I was on my way out here, actually, and we talked for a while. I would have been happy to talk for longer, but I was in the car. Since I have no AC, I drive with the windows down. In order to talk I had to roll them up and it was crazy hot. He’s also been a lot more reticent in his texts since I’ve been out here… ever since I got to Colorado Springs and was back with Alan, actually. ::sigh::

I know cheating is a bad bad thing, and once upon a time I was adamant that I would never do it. I know it would devastate Alan and destroy our marriage if he found out, but there is a big part of me that really wants to take the chance. I wonder if infidelity is genetic… if so, it certainly is ingrained in the Austin family tree. Maybe I just have a hyperactive imagination and I can’t help dwelling on the might-have-beens and maybes. I probably wouldn’t actually do it. But there’s a pretty big distinction between “probably wouldn’t” and “definitely wouldn’t.”
 

~Liz