Dreaming on a porch in brighton, early fall ‘18

Let me try to grab the main images before moving on to any specifics that may exist.

Pulling the pass van out of the crevice where it was parked the night before. Humid outside. That feeling I know really well enough, so distinct, like a million bees swarming me, but not biting? My skin was fine. I don’t remember working out, but I realize now it seemed to be the gym.
The different dance rooms happening, where I thought that gang was. The one with the boy twirling, the one with the girls laughing; I said hi to her. The mirror towards the end my face growing wide and lips big. The room where i was able to fly, or at least swim in its humidity.  

Oh, running out of the establishment, dropping my burton, my espadrilles, my sneakers, I may have been shirtless and in my dark blue Levi’s screaming no, no no no no non no no, and then trying, but failing to make a manly exclaim of FUK when i noticed two girls walking by. They were not impressed they just kept walking and giving me the side eye, naturally. Here, I was checking my phone and realizing I had maybe over estimated the time it took me to finish at the gym. At first , I thought I had mixed up the days, that the 19th which was actually today was tomorrow, and I felt ashamed after going back to my conversation at work.
I remembered setting the alarm in bed the night before for seven o’clock. The time in the dream was seven seventeen.