Cold morning and going to get colder. Birds flocking to the feeder. Chickens clamoring to get out.
I've got to stop having these dreams. I just can't deal. I have to go onstage. I'm late. No clue as to script. Costume? Please. No idea. Yesterday I was adopting (stealing) children. Their mother said, "Take 'em!" I did. They didn't seem to mind, those children, coming along with me.
Jesus. Why is my mind so crazy? Why can't I have a pleasant dream? A dream not fraught with panic, anxiety?
I have a dentist appointment at noon. Just a cleaning and making arrangements with the doc to get this crown made and put in place. No big deal. Yet I am skin-creeping with anxiety.
I've used that word twice now. I'll try to stop.
Watched The Great British Bake Off again last night. Okay. I'm not sure about this. Mary Berry and her fellow-judge, Paul Hollywood (!) seem obsessed with EVERY cracker (cake, whatever) being exactly like the other except for the part where the contestants got to be creative and use their crackers to make 3-D objects.
"Like little soldiers!" enthuses Mary Berry at one tray of particularly identical cookies. My god.
I've let the chickens and ducks out. Sixteen birds. Is that right? Trixie, Sharon, Ozzie, Mable, Nicey, Butterscotch, Lucille, Eggy Tina, Missy, Chi-Chi, Cha-Cha, Willy, Lily, Camellia, Dovie, Elvis. Two nice brown eggs already. Here comes Elvis to peck beneath the bird feeder. He makes his "come eat tasty treats!" call to the hens. They will follow soon.
Time to take a walk. Then a shower. Go to town. All will be well. One step, then another. Do it. Let the dreams go. No one is depending on me to show up onstage. I am not going to adopt any children. I am not late for anything. This day is going exactly as it should. Maybe. I don't believe in that shit. "Remember- God has placed you exactly where you are supposed to be in this life!"
Although where I am is lovely. It is fine. The sun and shade make jaguar prints on the fallen leaves. Elvis goes to collect a hen. The ducks waddle about. The cardinals call from the trees. The camellias bloom with blushing abandon.
I think I'll eat some Grapenuts. Crunch, crunch.