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1318
Of Stolen Santa Suits and Fleabag Hotels

Morning of March 17, 2015. Tuesday.

There is a big ritualistic Christmas celebration that is mostly being held in a very large old building (somewhat like a composite of church and theater), and it is apparently near Christmas in my dream. I am there with my family, but things change over time. In order to be a part of it, one must wear a Santa outfit, though that seems more like willful participation rather than a rule. I am aware that my youngest son's Santa outfit has possibly been mistakenly taken by someone. I cannot find mine, either. However, I do believe his is found and worn but I do not find mine. It seems mine may have been deliberately taken by a younger female who is part of a smaller group of about six disruptive people. There are some arguments and an attempt to find my suit and to catch one of them with it but I become so annoyed that I decide to leave the celebration. However, when I first try to leave the building I end up going to corners and walls that have no doors. One area is mostly of over-sized and seemingly very old concrete blocks, both floor and walls, and I do not see an exit anywhere. I walk past a parade to another area of the building, but I try to stay out of the group due to not having a Santa suit.

Eventually, there is a front door (which seems more like that of a house to the left of a large window that looks like part of a small store) that a young Japanese male apparently helps me find. He says something to me about the celebration but an older male near the door starts mocking the way he is speaking and pretends to speak Japanese (this was done to me throughout my childhood even though I have no Asian ancestry - taught me a lot about the "intelligence" of mainstream society). "This is the way they always are," I say, "they will never change." We then start walking west down the sidewalk towards my older sister Marilyn's house as once again, I am not aware of where I presently live in real life. However, I begin to realize that both Marilyn and Carol had died but I then contemplate the King Street boarding house. I believe my mother is still alive even though she had died in reality long before two of my older sisters (recurring in-dream false memory).

I decide that the boarding house is probably not a good place to go (even though I seem to "remember" that I live there or have some belongings there) and instead, find myself entering a very large hotel from a side entrance. I walk up the steps to the second floor and am on my own at that point. I go into a large room just off a large hall, which seems like the place I will be living at least for a time. There are several other people around, some formally dressed in business suits, but I am guessing they will eventually leave when I decide to sleep. A man, possibly the hotel manager, comes over to collect the fee, which is two hundred dollars for four days. I see four Australian fifty dollar bills in my wallet (even though I am apparently in America) and give it all to the man, figuring I have enough time to work out where I will go from here. (For some reason though, the last fifty is only good for half a day.)

I decide to sit down on a comfortable-looking armchair (another unknown male is sitting in a very similar armchair off to my left) but I fall through the cushion and notice that the armchair is broken in a few places (though there are some random hardcover books and notebooks stacked within the chair's frame and on the floor that were partly holding up the cushion at chair seat level - I am not sure if they are mine). Having fallen to the floor, remaining seated, I then notice that the carpet is incredibly dirty and torn in some areas and notice other details that seem to indicate that the room has never been cleaned or anything repaired. I watch a cat walking away from where I am, seeing on its back a couple extremely large fleas, at least one large louse, and a couple ticks, all nearly an inch long and bulging from their feeding; somewhat teardrop-shaped. I do not consider the unrealistic nature of the scene. From here, my dream eventually fades, but I soon realize that paying only fifty dollars a day for lodging, I cannot expect anything decent.

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