photo credit: The Old Adalie Plain
Holly jolly ho ho ho!
I can’t believe it’s December, much less a week (nay, 6 days) from when I board JetBlue flight TKTK and head to Florida to celebrate the reason for the season with my Occasionally Working Mother, Soon-to-be-Reemployed Father, Cognitive Neuroscientist Brother, and Self-Employed Sis-in-Law-to-Be.
photo credit: Robert Banh
You’re hardly even sposed to tell people about your dreams, much less write about them, but I have had such a bizarre collection of REM-thought in the past few days that I can’t help it.
1.) In this one I was the child in a terrorist family. They were all about to commit ritual suicide, but I wasn’t ready to die. So I escaped out of the second-story window of a house that looked much like that of my childhood, and began to roll down hill after hill. Except they weren’t so much hills as broccoli, and I was rolling over the tops of huge broccoli trees. And then I woke up.
