Goats do not cry at midnight

I must regretfully report that the posting of a cat photo was of no help. I do not feel any more (or less) real than at the time of my last post. Moreover, I have not developed a sense of being ‘anchored’ to reality in any definable way, as would have been consistent my expectation. The whole cat saga was not a total loss, however, since it did seem to precipitate an event that was completely unexpected. This event is not really the main act of today’s post – more like an unrelated preamble – but I found it so suitably disturbing that I have to write it down as an act of catharsis.
Although I have described what follows as an event, it is not really an event in the most rigorous definition of the word. Instead, it is more a dream, or at least part of one. Not a nightmare you understand, but just mildly odd in the way that most dreams are, sort of like melting clock pictures or sushi rolls.
I was, in this dream snippet, walking to work early on a frosty morning, some time before dawn, in a medium sized city in New Zealand. I have no idea why I was doing this in New Zealand, as I don’t live there, but this is probably why it was so cold. I turned into the narrow alley where my work keeps its offices, pushed past the normal urban detritus found in such places – trash cans, litter not in those trash cans, boxes for homeless people, and so forth – and opened the door to my place of work. Just as I was closing the office door to begin what I assume was going to be a long day of soul-crushing incompetence to no purpose, three cats went past. I know, doesn’t seem very odd does it? Cats, urban setting, alleyways, all pretty standard stuff. But these cats were riding bicycles of roughly cat-size, one of which was a tandem that two of them were operating in an not-quite-in-control-of-it way. They were also accompanied by a small dog, and all four of them seemed to be rather gleefully trying to make into the traffic moving obliviously on the road abutting the end of the alleyway.
Needless to say (although I am going to say it), I woke up feeling a little off-balance. It took me a while to realize that Augustus the goat hadn’t accompanied cats, dog, and bicycles, giving it the sure stamp of having being a dream. (As I have previously mentioned, Augustus the goat is most definitely real, and so is unlikely to turn up in dreams, which are probably not.) It did have the benefit of reminding me, though, that I hadn’t tried searching for information about my ‘reality’ situation on Wikipedia.
So, over a cup of coffee, and the distant sounds of a goat in a bad mood, I turned to Wikipedia for an answer. This is the answer that I got:
On this occasion Wikipedia could not help me, but you probably think that’s to be expected. I agree with you, it did seem like rather a long shot, but I felt I should have a run at it anyway, just in case. You are also probably thinking ‘who is Arthur Wingsuit?’ I did too (it feels like we are really connecting today), so I checked:
Another disappointing result, yes? Even more so, since it is my considered opinion that any one called Arthur Wingsuit simply has to be extremely interesting.
I was not deterred, however, I continued my researches – the details of which, while exciting, are also quite boring – and came up with a category of expert known as a ‘guru’. Gurus, it turns out, have all sorts of useful answers, some even come from long traditions of providing them, and are thus maximally respected. It was a promising lead, so I went to the telephone book to see if I could find one locally. A bit of a snag there actually, turns out I don’t have a telephone book, and if I had, it further turns out this would be ‘very uncool’ as nobody uses them any more. Not wanting to tempt fate and actually become ‘nobody’ by purchasing, or by some other means procuring, a phone book, I searched the internet instead. A luck would have it, I do have a guru living locally. (I know, that does seem a little too convenient. I confess to not being very sure what to make of that, really.) Not wanting to waste too much time, and finding that I didn’t have very much to do at that moment, I called the number and set up a meeting.
The meeting itself took place in small service station – sometimes also referred to as a gas station – that quite responsibly has an outdoor seating area for its patrons to drink beer. My Impressions of the guru when I first met him were … oh … sorry, I see we’ve run out of time. I hadn’t thought that the cat dream snippet would take up so much space.
Ummm … would you mind awfully if I picked this up next time?

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