Early Bird Blues

They have been less frequent the last couple years, but UFOs have been recurrent motifs in my dream life for years.  Two mornings ago, I had a dream where a sudden warming started dissolving ice clouds, sending the shards hurtling toward Earth.  (I should mention that an established cold snap was predicted to yield to a relatively warm spell.)
 
In the dream, the result was a challenging yet nonthreatening game of dodging these blocks of ice.  As a natural athlete, I found it quite fun.  When one of the ice clouds disintegrated, a UFO’s hiding spot was disclosed.  The flat, rectangular craft, with an edifice on top, sported six lights on its underside. 
 
“Look at that shit,” I said casually to the black stranger who was seated next to me.  “I always knew I’d see one up close.”  Laughing, I noted that they would now have to find another spot.
 
And then it landed nearby.
 
“Fuck!” 
 
My newfound friend and I ran into the adjoining trailer, which morphed into the house of a friend whose dad recently died.  I knew that the aliens were coming for us, and that there was nowhere to hide.  Trembling, I ran to futilely hide in a spot of the house where my friend’s dad held a meager liquor cache.  I downed the only bottle I could find, a one-shot Merlot. 
 
An older white doctor arrived, assuring me that they were there to take care of us.  He was followed by a young Asian doctor or nurse, who was attractive yet had an eerie quality about her.       
 
My insomnia has been in remission lately, but I nonetheless put in early wake-up calls so I can do whatever reading, writing, or exercise I need to do.  Right after the Asian lady appeared in the dream, I felt the real-world tap on my bed.  “5:00, Mr. Willard.”
 
Shit.
 
*    *    *
 
It was interesting that the UFO-sighting spot transfigured into my friend’s dad’s house.  It has been the scene for what I took to be the most bona fide UFO sighting I have ever experienced.  A score of them appeared that night, deep in space, moving erratically and unlike manmade satellites.  Years after those sightings, I had a dream where my friend and I saw an impressive UFO display. 
 
In an old VW Bug, Barack Obama suddenly pulled up and sped into the driveway.  “At last,” I thought, “we were going to get some official declaration.” 
 
I received a different message.
 
“You guys got any weed?”
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