Back from the woods with a bang. Work descended upon me. Alas. When your job is birthin' babies, sometimes the thought of hiding out, changing your identity is very tempting.
I had a fine dream on Sunday night. I walked into a bar and the jazz singer was Rebecca. She was wearing a curvy black dress, very low cut and high heels. Her hair was piled up in swoopy curls. She was singing, "It Had To Be You" in a breathy way. All the people were swooning. (interruption to pee) I woke up.
Dream resumption: R and I were going to buy toilet paper. I'd forgotten my wallet and we had 98 cents between us. We arrived at the store and I had to climb a steep embankment to get there. I struggled upward but arrived at the door. I explained to the clerk I had barely any money but she said I was in luck because 98 cents could buy 12 rolls. So back I went to find the car. The parking lot was vast and dark. Before I set out, R had given me a red knife and a black (plastic) gun. Two men started following me and I unfortunately stabbed one of them. Oh dear. And on a Buddhist retreat too. But. He didn't die. And I didn't have to use the gun. Lucky for me because it was a toy. R was nowhere to be seen.
Otherwise, not a dream in sight.
Time to walk the dog who lies in complete boredom at my feet.
Deb built a contraption so the chickens can roam a bit. It makes them so happy in their birdbrained way.
My accountant got a delay on my taxes. Then he tried to explain to me why I couldn't put $ in my Roth IRA ( a piddling sum) and I didn't understand him AT ALL. He needs an interpreter, or I do. I mean, what is an AGI?
I just go to work and hope at the end of each month there is enough to pay everyone and the effing IRS. I am not a business person. Not.
My mother always told me I'm 'too' sensitive. What the hell does that mean?