The following day I woke in my own bed just after 10am, I don’t usually remember my dreams and the dreams of the previous night had mostly escaped my memory banks too. I did however remember parts of the dream that by themselves meant nothing and together just appeared like a jigsaw with more than half the pieces missing.
There was images of Angel City Motorhead playing on stage, the mansion, the room I slept in, the pub I had lunch in and the place I stayed in three nights earlier. See I told you, a jigsaw with a lot of pieces missing. But the weirdest part that was still in my memory, the part that made the whole dream harder to piece together was the very vivid scene where I was meeting a collection of rock stars both alive and dead and I was the centre of attention.
As a part of my job meeting rock stars did happen so that part of the dream was probably not completely abnormal, the abnormal bit came with the who and where. I wont name drop and list every star I have met but trust me when I say I’m definitely not first on the list when rock stars are looking for someone to talk to, most wont even remember my name. Interviews are often set up by publicists, they ring a bunch of press people, sit the star in a room and each person gets an allotted time to spend with the person and ask our question, if the star wants to act like a twat and not answer we can’t do much about it. However I will say the majority of the ones I’ve met have been very good. That’s my job and when you see a few of these interviews conducted you can see why dreaming about these people all waiting around to talk to me was so strange in my head.
I was rarely a person to dwell on the weirdness of my dreams or bits of dreams but as I prepared myself for the day ahead the thoughts were really bugging me. I wanted to understand what the dream pieces meant but as each minute rolled on the images faded just a little bit more. I know many authors say they sleep with a pen and pad beside their bed to write down things they dream and as someone who pens stories in a magazine maybe I should think the same way but for some reason I don’t. For some reason I think because I woke up remembering the parts I’ll remember them until I find a pen and paper, but it never happens.
I spent nearly two hours working on Lemmy’s requests, coffee pushing me through to lunch time. By the time my stomach was telling me it wanted to be fed I had finished the first part of what I wanted to complete, I had the information Lemmy needed. Saving all the data to a USB drive I went and got myself dressed for the office, which did only entail a dress shirt and jeans but was more than I was wearing around the house up to that point.
The drive to work was going to take me about 30 minutes, given I was outside peak traffic times that wasn’t a bad run, but because I couldn’t be bothered looking for and making lunch at home I decided I was going to stop at Maccas on the way in. I know some people will frown at such a convenience but screw you I eat what I like!
Do you want to know what I had for lunch? Whether I used the drive-thru or ate in? Well I’m not going to tell you. However the Big Mac, fries and nuggets I had sitting in the front seat of my car were a nice change from what I would have had at home and the smell of them stayed in the car until my trip home which was just like having a second helping when I finished work.
I’d barely been in the office five minutes before the boss came up making comments about me turning up late or not at all. I honestly wasn’t sure if the guy knew I’d been on annual leave, if he thought I was out on assignment or if he just thought I’d forgotten to turn up to work, but there really was no point making comments so I just nodded and smiled at him from my desk.
Once I’d been through the usual office rigmarole that one has to do when they return from time off, you know the routine, telling everyone what you did and why you did it, each separately because it would be inefficient for everyone to take five minutes out their day at once, I was able to concentrate on what I’d come into work to do.
Even though I was a few days early and still technically on leave I made it look like I was working while I printed all the information for Lemmy. I technically didn’t have to, I could have just sat there and done what I needed to then gone home but I had decided during my trip home the day before that it might be handy to keep as much of my personal leave as I could for my visits to Angel City. Now I know what you’re going to say, if time stands still between me entering Angel City and me returning to the real world then why do I need time off. Well that is because I’m getting old.
Visiting Angel City was a ten hour round trip, and while I could, and probably will, always be well rested before the return trip, there is a psychological aspect of it. No matter how many hours or days I spent in Angel City I’d be leaving home and returning home on the same day and that is hard for the brain to wrap itself around without assuming that it was spending 10 hours on the road. So therefore saving a bit of personal leave for those days where I returned and didn’t feel like going to work the next day was a good idea I thought.
While the information I needed printed out I emailed HR and told them of a change to my leave schedule then went through my calendar and email to work out what I was doing for the next few days and weeks. I aimlessly played with a measure tape as I read my email.
The following week I had three local interviews, two with bands from different Melbourne suburbs which would be be done over a few counteries at two different pubs and one with an interstate band which would be done in their hotel room. To be honest I wasn’t looking forward to the band from Sydney, there were a bunch of arrogant wankers who thought the world owed them something because they could play a few notes and rhyme a few words. Sadly the crowds were beginning to think the same as the band became more popular for being arrogant wankers, but hey it’s the job.
In the following month I had one interstate trip which would yield me three interviews and one long haul to LA which would see me interview two major bands in twenty four hours then fly home again. Is it any wonder I get tired! In amongst all that I would still have the usual office meetings, writing, editing and boring conversations with the boss to contend with.
So with all that on the agenda I decided tiredness be buggered I was going to have to take Lemmy’s information to him on the weekend. I’d work for two days, then at sparrows fart Saturday morning I’d hit the road, get to Angel City by lunch time, have lunch with Ross, head into Angel City, do whatever I need to there, catch a gig, have a snooze then return to Ross’ pub the following “Angel City day”, have lunch, then head home and be hone for dinner Saturday night leaving Sunday to sleep all day before work on Monday. Sounds like a busy weekend doesn’t it.
Previous Angel City story here.