Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-Four
In this instance, I don’t think the dream is going to come true.
A meditation while lying in bed.
We decide I should make it a priority not to let the chaos get to me.
Sometimes, the best response is no response.
Sunshine.
It’s still not available.
Chocolate cake. I tell her I don’t like chocolate cake. I only like my mom’s German Chocolate Cake. She asks if it’s a family recipe. I tell her it comes from the box of the baker’s chocolate but people do act like it’s some special recipe. It’s just that good.
A lot of sighing while emptying the dishwasher and something about someone not rinsing the avocado off their dish.
Everyone is looking for something sweet but settling for air-popped popcorn.
I need to take notes.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-Three
4:08 a.m. Which means it’s really 3:08 a.m. I better try hard to go back to sleep.
Dream two is another version of the first dream, but more complete.
I text her about the dream. I tell her I wonder if it means that what I think is not actually what I want.
Today, I think I look like a mom.
He tells me that I only have nine things for my Ten Things. I briefly consider editing it and adding one more, but then I remember that the whole point of it is an exercise in being human and humans make mistakes.
Dreamspace.
All. of. the. music.
You can see it all over his face.
German Chocolate Cake Tillamook Ice Cream?
Sunday scaries.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-Two
She asks me what I’m doing at the grocery store so early. I glance down and see it’s 6 a.m.
An unripened avocado.
“Back in January 2023, she postd these bold black-and-white letters in the corner of her vision board: In the end they’ll judge you anyway, so do what you want.”
AAU Bingo.
Fruit cut and a kale crisp salad. And french fries, because why not?
One more game. I watch the opposing team warming up. I think we can get this one.
A win on a 3-pointer with 1.1 seconds to go.
It’s almost time to begin.
Italian wedding soup.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty-One
Friiiiday.
The warmth of the morning light.
He starts trying to break eggs, but he has no shirt on and has a pair of socks stuck underneath his armpit. I tell him to put his shirt on first before he starts cooking.
He’s still shoeless, stuffing bits of scrambled egg between slices of bacon.
I yell at everyone to get out of the house and then realize I’m still going to be the last one in the car because I can’t find my keys.
The font.
I ask him if there’s any way I can get around paying for shipping since, technically, the P.O. Box is right here. He charges me the media rate and then walks the package over to the shelf.
Balloons and sparkling wine and DIY flower arrangements. A good way to end a Friday
I tell her that there will be more. That I am trying to find ways to bring some joy back into my life.
It’s almost time.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Fifty
Now it’s finally Thursday.
Thin strips of fog sitting in
In the dream, I tell him that we’ve ordered the books and that everything will be okay.
All that sun.
She says something about playing a game. Pretend you have superpowers, and everything you want magically appears. Write whatever desire pops into your mind. Write what you want in response to anything that comes up.
I will make the best of it.
“One of the most common causes of failure is the habit of quitting when one is overtaken by temporary defeat.” - Napolean Hill
Greenhouse.
Another clump of daffodils randomly
Maybe next year I can get them to embrace the back peddle.