I woke up this morning from a most disturbing dream about my brother becoming obsessed with my daughter. My brother is someone who would beat the pulp out of a pedophile, so I don't know why I would dream such a thing. Another strange thing is that in the dream, Booie said she liked ice, so he sent her eight garbage bags full of ice, and they were lined all up and down the hall of our apartment building. How we lived in an apartment instead of our house is also beyond me. It was one of those dreams that upsets you so much that the day is ruined before you even wake up.
It was dark when I opened my eyes. Very dark. Dark like it wasn't yet time to get up. Then I heard the loud cracks and rumbles of a thunderstorm and the clickclickclick of the dog's toenails on the hardwood floor as she paced nervously. This is Kaya's least favorite time of year with the fireworks, made worse by the frequent, crackling storms. I took a picture of the one moving through last night. We've seen a lot of that lately.
The sun is out now, and there's not a cloud in the sky. The weather man on the news threatened scattered thunderstorms later today. I kind of like them, but I think the dog's had enough. Poor thing spends little time outside the little space for our feet under the computer desk. Keeps my feet warm though. Since our air conditioner can't do much more than let frigid air seep across the floor, my feet need warming. Might stay warmer if I were to get up and do something, I suppose.
But I'm tired and cranky, and I haven't had enough chocolate. I really must get out of the house. Further than the back yard anyway.
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One Year Ago Today:
Getting the Hag Out of His Hair
