So I’m back from a fabulous Hallowe’ekend in Seattle but more about that tomorrow as I had a rather harrowing dream experience thismorning that resulted in disastrous morning tears.
I don’t remember exactly how this dream began, but what I do know is that I died and was a ghost. I was in a room with a bunch of people that I know, friends and family – some composites. Anyway, I’m dead and I’m wandering around the room and people can’t see me but I realise that some people can feel my touch. So I hold up someone’s arm and write my name down the inside of their forearm (this was Jo-ann, I think). So now she realizes that I’m there and obviously we’re crying and then eventually I somehow end up in a diner booth with my parents. I’m holding my Mum, and my Dad’s on the other side of her and we’re all just crying because we know that at some point I’ll have to go, unable to stay in limbo as a ghost.
It’s at this point that I wake up and realize:
a. that I’m not dead; but
b. that I am crying.
It was a terrible morning and one from which I only recovered because:
a. it was 11am and I’d had a fabulous sleep; and
b. that owing to the time it was perfectly acceptable to jump right into lunch, skipping breakfast, and thereby enabling the inclusion of the fantastic lays limon chips i had purchased south of the border.
Seriously, it was a very strange dream that I am continuing to dissect but those are some AMAZING potato chips.