I love writing when the house is so quiet. Just the laptop, bottle of water and the humming of the fridge in the next room. Fred is out and the dog is still in bed. I think he's in bed. I've not seen him since he crawled under the covers last night. I assume he's in there.
I feel the urge to tell you guys about a dream I had yesterday. For some reason I was on the run with this blond woman in a wedding dress. (Could happen.) Anyway, in the dream we were in a stolen car, pulled into these condo's and broke into a house. (Total bad ass move.) After making out on some stairs, (I would never do this as I have a bad back and when you think about it it's not very practical. When I was much younger I did do some very adult things on some stairs but I didn't have a bad back and my partner at the time was very athletic.) So...where was I . Yes, so we both felt like she needed to get some real clothes on and of course I opted to get us some on the run food. I headed for the very well designed and decorated kitchen and began filling a bag with food stuff. Then, on the kitchen table was a huge two layer tray of cookies. Fuckin Score! They were all home made and I began filling a container with them. Then there was this messy filled with icing sugar kind on the far side. Over filled really with frosting leaking out of them all. I googled a picture.
Anyway, I guess I assumed that my dreams were that last place in my life where I wouldn't have to think about what I ate or my sugars. I could dream about Texas BBQ and going to New Orleans some day and eating my way up and down Bourbon Street. I guess if my inner self in my dreams is concerned about my sugars too, maybe this really is a life time deal. I mean come on! Is nothing sacred? I might have to meditate and tell my inner soul to knock it off so I can enjoy bad foods in my dreams and not be worried when I have filthy dreams about very tall women.