carnivore Dreams-Chill

I dreamed about my mother the other night–something I used to make a much bigger effort to do. I worked at lucid dreaming, and I plan to do work on that again since it informs my writing (as well as reading anything at all–reading always inspires writing in a way tv rarely does). Interestingly, my mom was trying to show me a recipe. She was young-ish in the dream, but maybe not quite this young.

The dream was not quite as obvious as the time I dreamed I was sitting on a big red tractor in a swampy field spinning my wheels in the muck. That one was a bit on the nose. But I usually don’t need a shrink to interpret my dreams.

Of course, I couldn’t make out the recipe. It seemed to be sitting on one of the chests we use for coffee tables around here. the recipe was in some newspaper, yellow with age.

If only I could only read that recipe. Directions. I need to read those directions…

Of course, someone woke me up before I could read them or talk to her or ask her those questions I need answers to.

Another rough week. Got my son through covid in time to come back to another bout of pneumonia for my dad complete with medication side effects of complete weakness and hallucinations. Always fun.

I spent the week trying to get our books in shape on our apartments in order to do taxes early. Just as I felt I was once again about to realize something that resembled order, my newly worked on computer stopped working and it took a good four hours to get Microsoft Office loaded on to this office computer (where I can work in dropbox in the cloud) and just when it seemed we’d get that done, the sewer backed up in the basement. Now that is something to behold. Or perhaps that’s the wrong sense to invoke. Roto-rooter people due Monday. And then my husband’s brother called to say he had covid when we were waiting for him to have some heart tests — he’s had a quadruple bypass five years ago or so but in quite remarkably good health until the last week of all this. We hope it’s Omicron and he gets monoclonals right away. We’re saying some prayers that it isn’t a lot at once.

But I did feel like I somehow– through all that–finally– managed to take my response to the stress down a notch. Maybe one. My system feels slightly less brittle, though I have a ways to go.

I’m determined to get walking this week and to get my yoga in. So in the spirit of chilling, I’ll skip the political/covid rant. Done enough of that on substack.

Long story short — I’m finally in shape to do revision on the memoir and the novel. I have a week ahead I can do that before heading downstate for physicals for my son and myself a week from Monday. Tried to reschedule those appointments but would have to wait until June.

Didn’t really have a major dog in the playoffs today. Like to watch to scope out the competition. Rooting for Matt Stafford, of course. Then the Packers since my daughter is now a cheese-head (and Aaron Rodgers who I hated turned out to not be a woke idiot), and third Tom Brady, I guess. Those are my guys. Though I did find Josh Allen interesting for the Bills.

So happy Saturday.

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