last night I dreamt of cats but not Santiago (I think I'm in denial that he may be lost as I seem to think I'm going to go home and he's going to crawl out of that basement door in the building in front. hope.) but Machiavelli who had been dead for years but came back to life upon being unfrozen and although he was not totally himself he did recognize me. his tongue had grown back and he licked my head. the cancer he died of was in his mouth and destroyed his tongue, you see. odd dream but obviously cat-worry-inspired. I'm not sure what to make of it.
this morning I heard a cat yowling outside the hotel room and I woke up with a start and then realized I was not at home so it couldn't be Santiago.
I also dreamed that I descended a number of staircases which usually terrifies me in my dreams but this time I was brave and went all the way to the bottom where we met satan, and he looked like this:
Paul Klee - Dance, Monster, to My Soft Song
satan tried to convince us he was real and that we should know this from advertisements and I said to him you can never believe what they say in advertisements. then I woke up.
I have to drive home and look for my cat now.